i 111.nut. 

GenCol1 




















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































,0* A V . 

0 .•^fh-*:- ° A * 




>° *v 

.' .0 ^ VW.* *> 

' • ’' i° V. * •. « * . v 

0 ••.VI',* ^ V , » • e 


r oK 


*75 


0 0 *°"\ ’? 

V"’- </.- V 


,* V •> 





o A Oft 

» & * 

* at* o 

.v o. * 


• *° 

,<y o 

* ^ A /<: 

i - M( y :*& 

H o. 



.. V >V” 
• V* .* 



o /v <v 

••* *o «A % .n. 4 ^ 




\ 9 


> V 

* o «• ^ c €lA.r j * , x * o **% *>a 

°* A 0 # * 

S. ^ a* ^ A 


* ~ vJ 
: : 

>• i°-v •■. 

.*,- * o ***, * 

» ■» * * * • Yo 9 

jy *vv % % ^ 

>* :^fe\ \A .*' 

-> O ®®S • A «/V - 

%<, o v Jj&AF * <>? • 

<***»•*** A *0 '^^'.* <% 

• • * r» v 0 * 9 . *t* A> A 

‘ * '.y W • -C^TV -» O jTV » /V> ,_ - •#» r 0 9 

* «6 A % ^xvWtf^ * 4> ♦ *jr V • JC 

* to :Sj|*|: ^ :m&: :*«S 

* ’' V\ . .V v • *’■*’V...V*'/ -o. . . 




^°ft ;«g 

K 0 



xV* * 
k K* » 


V* ,*•<>„ < ^V 

• ^ ** *>Wa % V 









• A 'I'n 
4 ^ 





* 0 


° O 

/ V V - 

o %vr.* a _ 

♦ **o ,A .*■ •♦ <*- 

' o ♦WZ^C’ ^ 

K £w/t>b> * %* ^ ' 

«*» o' 




* «* J) ^J, • > 1 N r» * c ^// , ‘^ , »* 

# • » ' * A 0 <S> ••.o’ °0 * , , . * 

■ . * * * > v N , • • **c. 


• ^ A *^ 
• ^ ,<£ 


• <A - 

* <v • 

4 +. 



v>* A S 


o V 


y V 



* %<> <j. ' 

** cr 


^ ‘ 


<$* * o m o 



o_ *■ 



: >° -v 

♦ r\ * 

t # __ 

0 <$> * e * 0 0 



* *V ^ •- 

\*v 




• ^ a!® * 

^ <A * 

° '**<? • 



^ 0 < • 



. O > 


\ ^ A 

; J> 'V 
4 ^ 

r ,vW< •%. c° 

- ^0* 


4 A A ^ »0 


0 * 


«. 1 ' crv * n 0 <*. * 

.« °4. * » • ’ • a 0 V 

w **•0,0 *0 *»'•'* «> 




4&+ * 





\ %. ^ '' 


><b 


• A V ^ • 

/ <* * 



- ** ^ - 

_ - *" **< v % 

« T r . ' * ^\VO^J^y>h * 

* O/ '“Cd. . 4 Av 

*?vr*' a <v '«'- 4 .o* V "vT!T* a 

'o A 4 .•‘V. <% , 0 * .‘ib**. o o ,^ V 

vx A ^ &\W/Z^>- <Pj A ».o* o> v 

o V • j** 0 . • o > • 

A •'VVlVVCsSp * ^ _ * ^C/yJPJf* r\ ^ v» • 

, 0 J ^ 

■ ••/.•'» > v N .■•<■- o ,o v ,*ii.». *> 


5.° 'V 



<J>. * • (. 0 



> >. A / 
0 ^<P - 



<?* 




































- - 








































































































































































* 






























































THE NOBLE THOUGHT 
SERIES 

Edited by DANA ESTES, M. A. 

9 

U The Noble Thoughts of Marcus Aurelius 
2. The Noble Thoughts of John Ruskin 

9 

Other works in preparation 











« 





Noble Thoughts 

of 

The World’s Greatest Minds 

Edited by Dana Estes, M. A. 



“ They are never alone who are 
accompanied by noble thoughts.” 

— Sir Philip Sidney. 




The Thoughts of 

JVIarcus Hurclius 
Hntoninus 

Edited by 

Dana Estes, M.A. 



Boston & Dana Estes & 
Company & Publishers 








LIBRARY ,-*f CONGRESS 
W(. Received 

JUL 25 iy«8 
JiJL 2 Jy **)<>? 

& XXC. Nf. 

2-4 a 8 V2-. 

COPY A. 



Copyright , 

By Dana Estes & Company 
-<4// rights reserved 


< € 
« * 
# « ‘ 


COLONIAL PRESS 

Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds Sr Co, 
Boston, U. S. A. 







INTRODUCTION 


They are never alone who are accompanied 
with noble thoughts* Beyond question the 
thoughts of the Roman emperor, Marcus 
Aurelius Antoninus, are among the most in¬ 
spiring that have come down to modern times 
from the ancients. This noblest of pagans, the 
crown and flower of Stoicism, was born at Rome 
121 A. D., the date of his birth being variously 
stated as the 21st and the 26th April. His 
original name was Marcus Annius Verus. His 
father, Annius Verus, died while he was praetor; 
his mother, who survived her husband, was 
Domitia Calvilla or Lucilla. By both his parents 
he was of noble blood, his mother being a lady 
of consular rank, and his father claiming descent 
from Numa Pompilius. Marcus was an infant 
when his father died, and was thereupon adopted 
by his grandfather. The latter spared no pains 
upon his education, and the moral training 
which he received, both from his grandfather 
and from his mother, and to which he alludes 


in the most grateful and graceful terms in his 
“ Meditations,” must have been all but perfect* 
The noble qualities of the child attracted the 
attention of the Emperor Hadrian, who, playing 
upon the name Verus, said that it should be 
changed to Verissimus. When Marcus reached 
the age of seventeen, Hadrian adopted, as his 
successor, Titus Antoninus Pius (who had mar¬ 
ried Annia Galeria Faustina, the sister of Annius 
Verus, and was consequently the uncle of 
Marcus), on condition that he in turn adopted 
both his nephew and Lucius Ceionius Commodus, 
the son of iElius Caesar, whom Hadrian, being 
childless, had originally intended as his suc¬ 
cessor, but who had died before him. It is 
generally believed that, had Marcus been old 
enough, Hadrian would have adopted him 
directly. 

After the death of Hadrian, and the accession 
of Antoninus Pius to the throne, it became at 
once apparent that a distinguished future was 
in store for Marcus. He had been, at the age 
of fifteen, betrothed to the sister of Commodus; 
the engagement was broken off by the new 
emperor, and he was instead betrothed to 
Faustina, the daughter of the latter. In 139 A. D. 
the title of Caesar was conferred upon him, and 
he dropped the name of Verus. The full name 
he then bore was Marcus iElius Aurelius Anto¬ 
ninus, iElius coming from Hadrian's family, 
and Aurelius being the original name of An- 

x 


toninus Pius. He is generally known as Marcus 
Aurelius or Marcus Aurelius Antoninus* In 
140 A. D* he was made consul, and entered fully 
upon public life. 

The education of Aurelius in his youth was 
so minute, and has been so detailed by himself, 
that it ought not to be passed over without 
notice* Professor Long says, with perfect truth, 
apparently, of the trainers and the trained, 
** Such a body of teachers, distinguished by their 
acquirements and their character, will hardly 
be collected again, and as to the pupil we have 
not had one like him since.” We have already 
alluded to the care bestowed upon him in 
youth by his mother and grandfather; a better 
guardian than that thoroughly good man and 
prudent ruler, Antoninus Pius, could not be 
conceived. Marcus himself says, “ To the gods 
I am indebted for having good grandfathers, 
good parents, a good sister, good teachers, good 
associates, good kinsmen and friends, nearly 
everything good.” He never attended any of 
the Roman public schools, and this he makes 
a matter for self-congratulation. He was 
trained by tutors, in whom, particularly in 
Rusticus, he appears to have been very for¬ 
tunate, and to whom he showed gratitude when 
he reached the throne by raising them to the 
highest dignities of the state. Like most of the 
young Romans of the day, he began his studies 
with rhetoric and poetry, his teachers being 


Herodes Atticus and M. Cornelius Fronto. 
But at the early age of eleven, he entered upon 
another course of study m which he may be 
said to have continued more or less till the end 
of his life* He became acquainted with Diog- 
netus the Stoic, was fascinated by the philos¬ 
ophy he taught, assumed the dress of his sect, 
and ultimately abandoned rhetoric and poetry 
for philosophy and law, having among his 
teachers of the one Sextus of Chaeronea, and of 
the other L. Volusianus Marcianus, a distin¬ 
guished jurist. But the bent of his mind toward 
Stoic principles seems to have been fostered 
most by Junius Rusticus, to whom he owed his 
reading of Epictetus. He went thoroughly and 
heartily into the practice as well as the theory 
of Stoicism, and lived so abstemious and labori¬ 
ous a life, that he injured his health. It was 
from his Stoical teachers that he learned so 
many admirable lessons, — to work hard, to 
deny himself, to avoid listening to slander, to 
endure misfortunes, never to deviate from his 
purpose, to be grave without affectation, 
delicate in correcting others, 44 not frequently 
to say to any one, nor to write in a letter, that 
I have no leisure,” nor continually to excuse 
the neglect of ordinary duties by alleging urgent 
occupations. Through all his Stoical training, 
Aurelius preserved the natural sweetness of 
his nature, so that he emerged from it the most 
lovable as well as the saintliest of Pagans, 
xii 


Antoninus Pius reigned from 138 to 161 A* D., 
and the concord between him and his destined 
heir was so complete, that it is recorded that 
during these twenty-three years Marcus never 
slept oftener than twice away from the house 
of Pius. It is generally believed that Aurelius 
married Faustina in 146, at all events a daughter 
was born to him in 147. The two noblest of 
imperial Romans were associated both in the 
administration of the state and in the simple 
country occupations and amusements of the 
sea-side villa of Lorium, the birthplace of Pius, 
to which he loved to retire from the pomp and 
the wretched intrigues of Rome. 

Antoninus Pius died of fever 161 A. D., at his 
villa of Lorium, at the age of seventy-five. 
As his end approached, he summoned his friends 
and the leading men of Rome to his bedside, and 
recommended to them Marcus, who was then 
forty years of age, as his successor, without 
mentioning the name of Commodus, his other 
adopted son, commonly called Lucius Verus. 
It is believed that the senate agreed with what 
appeared to be the wishes of the dying emperor, 
and urged Aurelius to take the sole administra¬ 
tion of the empire into his hands. But at the 
very commencement of his reign, Marcus showed 
the magnanimity of his nature by admitting 
Verus as his partner in the empire, giving him 
the tribunician and proconsular powers, and the 
titles Caesar and Augustus. This was the first 

xiii 


time that Rome had two emperors as colleagues* 
Verus proved to be a weak* self-indulgent man; 
but he had a high respect for his adoptive 
brother* and deferred uniformly to his judgment. 
Although apparently ill-assorted* they lived in 
peace; and Verus married Lucilla* the daughter 
of Aurelius. In the first year of his reign 
Faustina gave birth to twins, one of whom 
survived to become the infamous Emperor 
Commodus. 

The early part of the reign of Aurelius was 
clouded by various national misfortunes: an 
inundation of the Tiber swept away a large part 
of Rome* destroying fields* drowning cattle* and 
ultimately causing a famine; then came earth¬ 
quakes* fires* and plagues of insects; and finally* 
the unruly and warlike Parthians resumed 
hostilities* and under their king* Vologeses* 
defeated a Roman army and devastated Syria. 
Verus* originally a man of considerable physical 
courage and even mental ability* went to oppose 
the Parthians* but* having escaped from the 
control of his colleague in the purple* he gave 
himself up entirely to sensual excesses* and the 
Roman cause in Armenia would have been lost* 
and the empire itself* perhaps* imperilled* had 
Verus not had under him able generals* the chief 
of whom was Avidius Cassius. By them the 
Roman prestige was vindicated, and the Par¬ 
thian war brought to a conclusion in 165* the 
two emperors having a triumph for their victory 

xiv 


in the year following. Verus and his army 
brought with them from the East a terrible 
pestilence, which spread through the whole 
empire, and added greatly to the horrors of the 
time. The people of Rome seem to have been 
completely unnerved by the universal distress* 
and to have thought that the last days of the 
empire had come. Nor were their fears without 
cause. The Parthians had at the best been 
beaten, not subdued, the Britons threatened 
revolt, while signs appeared that various tribes 
beyond the Alps intended to break into Italy. 
Indeed, the bulk of the reign of Aurelius was 
spent in efforts to ward off from the empire 
the attacks of the barbarians. To allay the 
terrors of the Romans, he went himself to the 
wars with Verus, his headquarters being Car- 
nuntum on the Danube. Ultimately, the Mar- 
comanni, the fiercest of the tribes that inhabited 
the country between Illyria and the sources of 
the Danube, sued for peace in 168. The follow¬ 
ing year Verus died, having been, it is said, 
cut off by the pestilence which he had brought 
from Syria, although in that wicked age there 
were not wanting gossips malignant enough to 
say even of Marcus that he hastened his brother's 
death by poison. 

Aurelius was thenceforth undisputed master 
of the Roman empire, during one of the most 
troubled periods of its history. Mr. Farrar, in 
his 44 Seekers after God," thus admirably describes 


xv 


the manner in which he discharged his multi¬ 
farious duties: — ** He regarded himself as 
being, in fact, the servant of all. It was his duty, 
like that of the bull in the herd, or the ram 
among the flocks, to confront every peril in his 
own person, to be foremost in all the hardships 
of war, and most deeply immersed in all the toils 
of peace. The registry of the citizens, the sup¬ 
pression of litigation, the elevation of public 
morals, the care of minors, the retrenchment of 
public expenses, the limitation of gladiatorial 
games and shows, the care of roads, the restora¬ 
tion of senatorial privileges, the appointment 
of none but worthy magistrates, even the regu¬ 
lation of street traffic, these and numberless 
other duties so completely absorbed his attention 
that, in spite of indifferent health, they often 
kept him at severe labour from early morning 
till long after midnight. His position, indeed, 
often necessitated his presence at games and 
shows, but on these occasions he occupied 
himself either in reading, in being read to, or in 
writing notes. He was one of those who held 
that nothing should be done hastily, and that 
few crimes were worse than the waste of time.” 

Peace was not long allowed the emperor. 
The year after the death of his partner, two of 
the German tribes, the Quadi and the Marco- 
manni, renewed hostilities with Rome, and, for 
three years, Aurelius resided almost constantly 
at Camuntum, that he might effectually watch 
xvi 


them. In the end, the Marcomanni were driven 
out of Pannonia, and were almost destroyed 
in their retreat across the Danube, In 174 
Aurelius gained a decisive victory over the 
Quadi, to which a superstitious interest is 
attached, and which is commemorated by one 
of the sculptures on the Column of Antonine, 
The story is that the Roman army had been 
entangled in a defile, from which they were 
unable to extricate themselves, while at the 
same time they suffered intensely from thirst. 
In this extremity a sudden storm gave them 
abundance of rain, while the hail and thunder 
which accompanied the rain confounded their 
enemies, and enabled the Romans to gain an 
easy and complete victory. This triumph was 
universally considered at the time, and for long 
afterwards, to have been a miracle, and bore 
the title of 44 The Miracle of the Thundering 
Legion.” The Gentile writers of the period 
ascribed the victory to their gods, while the 
Christians attributed it to the prayers of their 
brethren in a legion to which, they affirmed, 
the emperor then gave the name of Thundering, 
Dacier, however, and others who adhere to the 
Christian view of the miracle, admit that the 
appellation of Thundering or Lightning ( Kepav- 
vo^cXos or Kepawocf>crpo<:) was not given to the 
legion because the Quadi were struck with 
lightning, but because there was a figure of 
lightning on their shields. It has also been 


virtually proved that it had the title even in 
the reign of Augustus* 

Even after this Aurelius was not allowed to 
rest. From Rome, to which he had returned, 
he marched to Germany to carry on the war 
against the tribes which harassed the empire. 
There the alarming news reached him that 
Avidius Cassius, the brave and experienced 
commander of the Roman troops in Asia, had 
revolted and proclaimed himself emperor. But 
the rebellion did not last long. Cassius had only 
enjoyed his self-conf erred honour for three 
months, when he was assassinated, and his 
head was brought to Marcus. With character¬ 
istic magnanimity, Marcus did not thank the 
assassins for what they had done; on the con¬ 
trary, he begged the senate to pardon all the 
family of Cassius, and to allow his life to 
be the only one forfeited on account of the civil 
war. This was agreed to, and it must be con¬ 
sidered as a proof of the wisdom of Aurelius's 
clemency, that he had little or no trouble in 
pacifying the provinces which had been the 
scene of rebellion. He treated them all with 
forbearance, and it is said that when he arrived 
in Syria, and the correspondence of Cassius 
was brought him, he burnt it without reading it. 
During this journey of pacification his wife 
Faustina, who had borne him eleven children, 
died. The gossiping historians of the time, 
particularly Dion Cassius and Capitolinus, 

xviii 


charge Faustina with the most shameless infi¬ 
delity to her husband, who is even blamed for 
not paying heed to her crimes* But none of 
these stories rest on evidence which can fairly 
be considered trustworthy; while, on the other 
hand, there can be no doubt whatever that 
Aurelius loved his wife tenderly, and trusted 
her implicitly while she lived, and mourned 
deeply for her loss. It would seem that Aurelius, 
after the death of Faustina and the pacification 
of Syria, proceeded, on his return to Italy, 
through Athens, and was initiated in the Eleu- 
sinian mysteries, the reason assigned for his 
doing so being, that it was his custom to con¬ 
form to the established rites of any country in 
which he happened to find himself. Along with 
his son Commodus he entered Rome in 176, and 
obtained a triumph for victories in Germany. 
In 177 occurred that persecution of Christians, 
the share of Aurelius in which has caused great 
difference of opinion, and during which Attains 
and others were put to death. Meanwhile the 
war on the German frontier continued, and the 
hostile tribes were defeated as on former occa¬ 
sions. In this campaign Aurelius led his own 
forces; and, probably on that account, he was 
attacked by some infectious disease, which 
ultimately cut him off, after a short illness, 
according to one account, in his camp at Sir- 
mium (Mitrovitz) on the Save, in Lower Pan- 
nonia, and, according to another, at Vindobona 


(Vienna), on the \ 7th March 180 A. D., in the 
fifty-ninth year of his age. His ashes (according 
to some authorities, his body) were taken to 
Rome, and he was deified. Those who could 
afford the cost obtained his statue or bust, and, 
for a long time, statues of him held a place 
among the Penates of the Romans. Commodus, 
who was with his father when he died, erected 
to his memory the Antonine Column (now in 
the Piazza Colonna at Rome), round the shaft 
of which are sculptures in relief commemorating 
the miracle of the Thundering Legion and the 
various victories of Aurelius over the Quadi 
and the Marcomanni. 

The one blemish in the life of Aurelius is his 
hostility to Christianity, which is the more re¬ 
markable that his morality comes nearer than 
any other heathen system to that of the New 
Testament. Attempts have been made to show 
that he was not responsible for the atrocities 
with which his reign is credited, but the evidence 
of Justin, of Athenagoras, of Apollinaris, and, 
above all, of Melito, bishop of Sardis, and of the 
Church of Smyrna, is overwhelmingly to the 
effect that not only were there severe persecu¬ 
tions of Christians, in which men like Polycarp 
and Justin perished, but that the foundation of 
these persecutions was certain rescripts or 
constitutions issued by Aurelius as supplemen¬ 
tary to the milder decrees of his predecessors 
Hadrian and Antoninus Pius. In explanation. 


however, if not in extenuation, of the attitude 
of Aurelius towards Christianity, several cir¬ 
cumstances should be taken into consideration* 
In the first place, it is evident that he knew 
little of the Christians, and absolutely nothing of 
Christian ethics. In his 44 Meditations” he makes 
only one reference (xi. 3) to the adherents of 
the new creed, and that of the most contemptu¬ 
ous character, showing that he confounded 
them all with certain fanatics of their number, 
whom even Clemens of Alexandria compares, 
on account of their thirst for martyrdom, to the 
Indian gymnosophists. How far this ignorance 
was culpable it is impossible at so remote a date 
to say. Further, it should be noted, in regard 
to the rescripts upon which the persecutions 
were founded, that, although they were in the 
name of the emperor, they may not have pro¬ 
ceeded directly from him. There is no evidence 
that he was an active persecutor, except a 
passage in Orosius to the effect that there were 
persecutions of the Christians in Asia and 
Gallia “ under the orders of Marcus; ” and it 
should not be kept out of consideration that he 
was to some extent a constitutional monarch, 
and had to pay deference both to the consulta 
of the senate and the precedents of previous 
emperors. At the time there was a great popu¬ 
lar outcry against the Christians on social and 
political, even more than on religious, grounds; 
and Aurelius may have been as much at the 


mercy of intriguers or fanatics when he gave his 
sanction to the butcheries of Christians in Asia 
Minor, as William III. was at the mercy of 
Stair and Breadalbane, the real authors of the 
massacre of Glencoe. Finally, it should be 
borne in mind that, in the reign of Aurelius, 
the Christians had assumed a much bolder 
attitude than they had hitherto done. Not only 
had they caused first interest and then alarm 
by the rapid increase of their numbers, but, 
not content with a bare toleration in the empire, 
they declared war against all heathen rites, 
and, at least indirectly, against the Government 
which permitted them to exist. In the eyes of 
Aurelius they were atheists and foes of that 
social order which he considered it the first 
of a citizens duties to maintain, and it is quite 
possible that, although the most amiable of 
men and of rulers, he may have conceived it to 
to be his duty to sanction measures for the 
extermination of such wretches. Still his action 
at the time must be considered, as John Stuart 
Mill puts it, as “ one of the most tragical facts 
in all history.” 

The book which contains the philosophy of 
Aurelius is known by the title of his 44 Reflections” 
or his 44 Meditations,” although that is not the 
name which he gave to it himself, and of the 
genuineness of the authorship no doubts are 
now entertained. It is believed that the em¬ 
peror also wrote an autobiography, which has 


perished with other treasures of antiquity. The 
“ Meditations ” were written, it is evident, as 
occasion offered, — in the midst of public busi¬ 
ness, and even on the eve of battles on which 
the fate of the empire depended, — hence their 
fragmentary appearance, but hence also much 
of their practical value and even of their charm. 
It is believed by many critics that they were 
intended for the guidance in life of Aurelius's 
son, Commodus. If so, history records how 
lamentably they failed in accomplishing their 
immediate effect, for Commodus proved one of 
the greatest sensualists, buffoons, and tyrants 
that disgraced even the Roman purple. But 
they have been considered as one of the most 
precious of the legacies of antiquity, — as, in 
fact, the best of non-inspired reflections on 
practical morality. They have been recognized 
as among the most effectual stimuli to strugglers 
in life, of whatever class and in whatever 
position, in the field of speculation as in that of 
action. The 44 Meditations 99 of Marcus Aurelius 
were, with Machiavelli's “ Art of War," the daily 
study of Captain John Smith, the real founder 
of the United States. They are placed by Mr. 
Mill in his posthumous essay on the “ Utility of 
Religion 99 as almost equal in ethical elevation 
to the Sermon on the Mount. 

Aurelius early embraced, and throughout life 
adhered to, the Stoical philosophy, probably 
because he considered it as the sternest and 

xxiii 


most solid system to oppose to the corruption 
of his time. But, as Tenneman says, he im¬ 
parted to it “ a character of gentleness and 
benevolence, by making it subordinate to a love 
of mankind, allied to religion.” In the “ Medi¬ 
tations ” it is difficult to discover anything like 
a systematic philosophy, which, indeed, means, 
as he used the word, tranquillity, or a serene 
habit of mind. From the manner, however, in 
which he seeks to distinguish between matter 
(v\rj) and cause or reason (cutux, \ 6 yo < s) f and 
from the Carlylean earnestness with which he 
advises men to examine all the impressions 
on their minds (<£ avraoiai ), it may be inferred 
that he held the view of Anaxagoras — that 
God and matter exist independently, but that 
God governs matter. There can be no doubt 
that Aurelius believed in a deity, although 
Schultz is probably right in maintaining that 
all his theology amounts to this, — the soul of 
man is most intimately united to his body, and 
together they make one animal which we call 
man; and so the deity is most intimately united 
to the world or the material universe, and to¬ 
gether they form one whole. We find in the 
44 Meditations ” no speculations on the absolute 
nature of the deity, and no clear expressions 
of opinion as to a future state. We may also 
observe here that, like Epictetus, he is by no 
means so decided on the subject of suicide as 
the older Stoics. Aurelius is, above all things, 
xxiv 


a practical moralist* The goal in life to be aimed 
at, according to him, is not happiness, but 
tranquillity, or equanimity. This condition of 
mind can be attained only by 44 living con¬ 
formably to nature/' that is to say, one's whole 
nature, and as a means to that, man must 
cultivate the four chief virtues, each of which 
has its distinct sphere — wisdom, or the knowl¬ 
edge of good and evil; justice, or the giving to 
every man his due; fortitude, or the enduring 
of labour and pain; and temperance, or moder¬ 
ation in all things. It is no 44 fugitive and 
cloistered virtue" that Aurelius seeks to en¬ 
courage; on the contrary, man must lead the 
44 life of the social animal," must 44 live as on 
a mountain;" and 44 he is an abscess on the 
universe who withdraws and separates himself 
from the reason of our common nature through 
being displeased with the things which happen." 
While the prime principle in man is the social, 
44 the next in order is not to yield to the per¬ 
suasions of the body, when they are not con¬ 
formable to the rational principle which 
must govern." This 44 divinity within a man," 
this 44 legislating faculty " (to r/yefwvLKov) which, 
looked at from one point of view, is conscience, 
and from another is reason, must be implicitly 
obeyed. He who thus obeys it will attain tran¬ 
quillity of mind; nothing can irritate him, for 
everything is according to nature, and death 
itself 44 is such as generation is, a mystery of 

xxv 


nature, a composition out of the same elements, 
and a decomposition into the same, and alto¬ 
gether not a thing of which any man should be 
ashamed, for it is not contrary to the nature of 
a reasonable animal, and not contrary to the 
reason of our constitution/' 

The morality of Marcus Aurelius cannot be 
said to have been new when it was given to the 
world, far less can it be said to be systematic* 
Compared, indeed, with elaborate treatises on 
ethics, the 44 Meditations ” of Marcus Aurelius 
are as tonic medicine to succulent food. The 
charm of his morality lies in its exquisite accent 
and its infinite tenderness. Where can the 
connoisseur in morals find anything finer than 
such sentences as this ? — 44 The pride which is 
proud of its want of pride is the most intolerable 
of all; ” or where can a more delicate rebuke 
to the Pharisaism which lurks in the breast of 
every man be obtained than this ?— 44 One man, 
when he has done a service to another, is ready 
to set it down to his account as a favour con¬ 
ferred. Another is not ready to do this, but 
still, in his own mind, he thinks of the man as 
his debtor, and he knows what he has done. 
A third in a manner does not even know what 
he has done, but he is like a vine which has 
produced grapes, and seeks for nothing more 
after it has once produced its proper fruit. So 
a man when he has done a good act, does not 
call out for others to come and see, but he goes 
xxvi 


on to another act as a vine goes on to produce 
again the grapes in season/' But above all, 
what gives the sentences of Marcus Aurelius 
their enduring value and fascination, what 
renders them superior to the utterances of other 
moralists of the same school, such as Epictetus 
and Seneca, is that they are the gospel of his 
life. His practice was in accordance with his 
precepts, or rather his precepts are simply the 
records of his practice. To the saintliness of 
the cloister he added the wisdom of the man of 
the world; constant in misfortune, not elated 
by prosperity, never 44 carrying things to the 
sweating point; ” preserving, in a time of uni¬ 
versal corruption, unreality, and self-indulgence, 
a nature, sweet, pure, self-denying, unaffected, 
Marcus Aurelius has given to the world one of the 
finest examples of the possibilities of humanity. 

To the opinions of John Stuart Mill and 
Canon Farrar, already quoted, may be added 
a few excerpts from other notable authors. 
Gibbon, the historian of the Roman Empire, 
says: 

u Marcus Aurelius revered the character of 
his benefactor, Antoninus Pius, who has been 
justly denominated the second Numa, loved 
him as a parent, obeyed him as a sovereign, 
and after he was no more, regulated his whole 
administration by the example and maxims 
of his predecessor. Their united reigns are 
possibly the only period of history in which the 

xxvii 


happiness of a great people was the sole object 
of government* The same love of religions 
justice and peace were the distinguishing char¬ 
acteristics of both princes* Antoninus diffused 
order and tranquillity over the greater part of 
the earth* In private life he was amiable, as 
well as a good man* The native simplicity of 
his virtue was a stranger to vanity or affectation* 
He enjoyed with moderation the conveniences 
of his fortune and the innocent pleasures of 
society, and the benevolence of his soul dis¬ 
played itself in a cheerful serenity of tempera¬ 
ment. The virtue of Marcus Aurelius was of a 
severer and more laborious kind. His life 
was the noblest commentary on the precepts 
of Zeno* He was severe to himself, indulgent 
to the imperfections of others, just and benefi- 
cient to all mankind. If a man were called to 
fix the period in the history of the world during 
which the condition of the human race was 
most happy and prosperous, he would without 
hesitation name that which elapsed from the 
death of Domitian to the accession of Commo- 
dus. The vast extent of the Roman Empire 
was governed by absolute power under the 
guidance of virtue and wisdom. The labours 
of these monarchs were overpaid by the im¬ 
mense reward that inseparably waited on their 
success, by the honest pride of virtue, and by 
the exquisite delight of beholding the general 
happiness of which they were the authors.” 


Victor Duruy in his ** History of Rome and the 
Roman People” says: 

** If the apologists of the second century and 
so many Doctors of the Church found Christians 
existing before Christ, no one was in heart so 
much so as Marcus Aurelius, for never has any 
man carried farther the desire for inner per¬ 
fection and the love of humanity* He remains 
the very loftiest expression of that purified 
Stoicism which bordered on Christianity without 
entering its territory or taking anything from 
it* These solitary meditations, this dialogue 
with his soul, have formed a work of sublime 
morality. To abstain even from the thought 
of evil by fashioning the soul to the Divine Like¬ 
ness, to love mankind, sacrifice even the object 
counted the dearest to the fulfilment of duty; 
all this is seen in Marcus Aurelius. His philos¬ 
ophy simplified life by making no reference to 
death, or at least in not being anxious as to 
what may be found beyond the tomb, and 
divested itself of interest on questions which 
have most troubled the human soul* His virtue 
was not a bargain made with Heaven; he 
found in it its own reward* He expected nothing 
from the gods, and the eternal silence of infinity 
did not affright him.” 

Maurice Maeterlinck says: 

44 Marcus Aurelius — than whom perhaps none 
ever craved more earnestly for justice, or pos¬ 
sessed a soul more wisely impressionable, more 

xxix 


nobly sensitive — never asked himself what 
might be happening outside that admirable 
little circle of light wherein his virtue and con¬ 
sciousness, his divine meekness and piety, had 
gathered those who were near him, his friends 
and his servants. Infinite iniquity, he knew 
full well, stretched around him on every side? 
but with this he had no concern. To him it 
seemed a thing that must be mysterious and 
sacred as the mighty ocean; the boundless 
domain of the gods, of fatality, of laws unknown 
and superior, irresistible, irresponsible, and 
eternal. It did not lessen his courage; on the 
contrary, it enhanced his confidence, his con¬ 
centration, and spurred him upwards, like the 
flame that, confined to a narrow area, rises 
higher and higher, alone in the night, urged 
on by the darkness. He accepted the decree 
of fate that allotted slavery to the bulk of man¬ 
kind. Sorrowfully, but with full conviction, 
did he submit to the irrevocable law; wherein 
he once again gave proof of his piety and his 
virtue. He retired into himself and there, in 
kind of sunless, motionless void became still 
more just, still more humane/' 
































































•y*s #v_ 









THE THOUGHTS 

OF 

MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS 
I 

ROM my grandfather Verus [I 
learned] good morals and the 
government of my temper. 

2. From the reputation 
and remembrance of my father, 
modesty and a manly charac¬ 
ter. 

C3. From my mother, piety and beneficence, 
and abstinence, not only from evil deeds, but 
even from evil thoughts; and further, simplicity 
in my way of living, far removed from the habits 
of the rich. 

. C4. From my great-grandfather, not to have 
frequented public schools, and to have had good 
teachers at home, and to know that on such 
things a man should spend liberally. 

From my governor, to be neither of the 

\ 






green nor of the bine party at the games in the 
Circus, nor a partisan either of the Parmularius 
or the Scutarius at the gladiators' fights; from 
him too I learned endurance of labor, and to 
want little, and to work with my own hands, and 
not to meddle with other people's affairs, and not 
to be ready to listen to slander. 

6. From Diognetus, not to busy myself 
about trifling things, and not to give credit to 
what was said by miracle-workers and jugglers 
about incantations and the driving away of 
daemons and such things; and not to breed quails 
[for fighting], nor to give myself up passionately 
to such things; and to endure freedom of speech; 
and to have become intimate with philosophy; 
and to have been a hearer, first of Bacchius, then 
of Tandasis and Marcianus; and to have written 
dialogues in my youth; and to have desired a 
plank bed and skin; and whatever else of the 
kind belongs to the Grecian discipline. 

7. From Rusticus I received the impression 
that my character required improvement and 
discipline; and from him I learned not to be led 
astray to sophistic emulation, nor to writing on 
speculative matters, nor to delivering little hor¬ 
tatory orations, nor to showing myself off as a 
man who practises much discipline, or does 
benevolent acts in order to make a display; and 
to abstain from rhetoric, and poetry, and fine 
writing; and not to walk about in the house in my 
outdoor dress, nor to do other things of the kind; 

2 


and to write my letters with simplicity, like the 
letter which Rusticus wrote from Sinuessa to my 
mother; and with respect to those who have of¬ 
fended me by words, or done me wrong, to be 
easily disposed to be pacified and reconciled, as 
soon as they have shown a readiness to be recon¬ 
ciled; and to read carefully, and not to be satis¬ 
fied with a superficial understanding of a book; 
nor hastily to give my assent to those who talk 
overmuch; and I am indebted to him for being 
acquainted with the discourses of Epictetus, 
which he communicated to me out of his own 
collection* 

C; 8. From Apollonius I learned freedom of 
will and undeviating steadiness of purpose; and 
to look to nothing else, not even for a moment, 
except to reason; and to be always the same, in 
sharp pains, on the occasion of the loss of a child, 
and in long illness; and to see clearly in a living 
example that the same man can be both most 
resolute and yielding, and not peevish in giving 
his instruction; and to have had before my eyes 
a man who clearly considered his experience 
and his skill in expounding philosophical prin¬ 
ciples as the smallest of his merits; and from 
him I learned how to receive from friends what 
are esteemed favors, without being either 
humbled by them or letting them pass unnoticed* 

C* From Sextus, a benevolent disposition, 
and the example of a family governed in a 
fatherly manner, and the idea of living con- 

3 




formably to nature; and gravity without affecta¬ 
tion, and to look carefully after the interest of 
friends, and to tolerate ignorant persons, and 
those who form opinions without consideration: 
he had the power of readily accommodating 
himself to all, so that intercourse with him was 
more agreeable than any flattery; and at the 
same time he was most highly venerated by those 
who associated with him: and he had the faculty 
both of discovering and ordering; in an intelli¬ 
gent and methodical way, the principles neces¬ 
sary for life; and he never showed anger or any 
other passion, but was entirely free from passion, 
and also most affectionate; and he could express 
approbation without noisy display, and he pos¬ 
sessed much knowledge without ostentation. 

<[10. From Alexander the grammarian, to 
refrain from fault-finding, and not in a reproach¬ 
ful way to chide those who uttered any barba¬ 
rous or solecistic or strange-sounding expression; 
but dexterously to introduce the very expression 
which ought to have been used, and in the way 
of answer or giving confirmation, or joining in an 
inquiry about the thing itself, not about the 
word, or by some other fit suggestion. 

<[11. From Fronto I learned to observe what 
envy and duplicity and hypocrisy are in a tyrant, 
and that generally those among us who are called 
Patricians are rather deficient in paternal affec¬ 
tion. 

<[12. From Alexander the Platonic, not fre- 

4 


quently nor without necessity to say to any one, 
or to write in a letter, that I have no leisure; nor 
continually to excuse the neglect of duties re¬ 
quired by our relation to those with whom we 
live, by alleging urgent occupations* 

4^13* From Catulus, not to be indifferent 
when a friend finds fault, even if he should find 
fault without reason, but try to restore him to 
his usual disposition; and to be ready to speak 
well of teachers, as it is reported of Domitius and 
Athenodotus; and to love my children truly* 

4^14* From my brother Severus, to love my 
kin, and to love truth, and to love justice; and 
through him I learned to know Thrasea, Helvi- 
dius, Cato, Dion, Brutus; and from him I re¬ 
ceived the idea of a polity in which there is the 
same law for all, a polity administered with 
regard to equal rights and equal freedom of 
speech, and the idea of a kingly government 
which respects most of all the freedom of the 
governed; I learned from him also consistency 
and undeviating steadiness in my regard for 
philosophy; and a disposition to do good, and 
to give to others readily, and to cherish good 
hopes, and to believe that I am loved by my 
friends; and in him I observed no concealment 
of his opinions with respect to those whom he 
condemned, and that his friends had no need to 
conjecture what he wished or did not wish, but it 
was quite plain* 

4£ 15* From Maximus I learned self-govern- 

5 


ment, and not to be led aside by anything; and 
cheerfulnesss in all circumstances, as well as in 
illness; and a just admixture in the moral char¬ 
acter of sweetness and dignity, and to do what 
was set before me without complaining. I ob¬ 
served that everybody believed that he thought 
as he spoke, and that in all that he did he never 
had any bad intention; and he never showed 
amazement and surprise, and was never in a 
hurry, and never put off doing a thing, nor was 
perplexed nor dejected, nor did he ever laugh to 
disguise his vexation, nor, on the other hand, was 
he ever passionate or suspicious. He was accus¬ 
tomed to do acts of beneficence, and was ready 
to forgive, and was free from all falsehood; and 
he presented the appearance of a man who 
could not be diverted from right, rather than of a 
man who had been improved. I observed, too, 
that no man could ever think that he was de¬ 
spised by Maximus, or ever venture to think 
himself a better man. He had also the art of 
being humorous in an agreeable way. 

In my father I observed mildness of 
temper, and unchangeable resolution in the 
things which he had determined after due delib¬ 
eration; and no vainglory in those things which 
men call honors; and a love of labor and perse¬ 
verance; and a readiness to listen to those who 
had anything to propose for the common weal; 
and undeviating firmness in giving to every 
man according to his deserts; and a knowledge 


derived from experience of the occasions for 
vigorous action and for remission* And he re¬ 
leased his friends from all obligation to sup 
with him or to attend him of necessity when he 
went abroad, and those who had failed to ac¬ 
company him, by reason of any urgent circum¬ 
stances, always found him the same* I observed 
too his habit of careful inquiry in all matters of 
deliberation, and his persistency, and that he 
never stopped his investigation through being 
satisfied with appearances which first present 
themselves; and that his disposition was to keep 
his friends, and not to be soon tired of them, nor 
yet to be extravagant in his affection; and to be 
satisfied on all occasions, and cheerful; and to 
foresee things a long way off, and to pro¬ 
vide for the smallest without display; and 
to check immediately popular applause and all 
flattery; and to be ever watchful over the things 
which were necessary for the administration of 
the empire, and to be a good manager of the 
expenditure, and patiently to endure the blame 
which he got for such conduct; and he was 
neither superstitious with respect to the gods, 
nor did he court men by gifts or by trying to 
please them, or by flattering the populace; but 
he showed sobriety in all things and firmness, 
and never any mean thoughts or action, nor love 
of novelty* And the things which conduce in any 
way to the commodity of life, and of which 
fortune gives an abundant supply, he used with- 

7 


out arrogance and without excusing himself; so 
that when he had them, he enjoyed them without 
affectation, and when he had them not, he did 
not want them* He was also easy in conversa¬ 
tion, and he made himself agreeable without any 
offensive affectation* He took a reasonable care 
of his body's health, not as one who was greatly 
attached to life, nor out of regard to personal 
appearance, nor yet in a careless way, but so that 
through his own attention he very seldom stood 
in need of the physician's art or of medicine or 
external applications* His secrets were not 
many, but very few and very rare, and these 
only about public matters; and he showed 
prudence and economy in the exhibition of the 
public spectacles and the construction of public 
buildings, his donations to the people, and in 
such things, for he was a man who looked to 
what ought to be done, not to the reputation 
which is got by a man's acts. There was in him 
nothing harsh, nor implacable, nor violent, nor, 
as one may say, anything carried to the 
sweating point; but he examined all things 
severally, as if he had abundance of time, and 
without confusion, in an orderly way, vigorously 
and consistently. And that might be applied to 
him which is recorded of Socrates, that he was 
able both to abstain from, and to enjoy, those 
things which many are too weak to abstain from, 
and cannot enjoy without excess* But to be 
strong enough both to bear the one and to be 
8 


sober in the other is the mark of a man who has 
a perfect and invincible soul, such as he showed 
in the illness of Maximus. 

C. 17. To the gods I am indebted for having 
good grandfathers, good parents, a good sister, 
good teachers, good associates, good kinsmen 
and friends, nearly everything good. Further, 
I owe it to the gods that I was not hurried into 
any offence against any of them, though I had a 
disposition which, if opportunity had offered, 
might have led me to do something of this kind; 
but, through their favor, there never was such 
a concurrence of circumstances as put me to the 
trial. Further, I am thankful to the gods that 
I was subjected to a ruler and a father who was 
able to take away all pride from me, and to bring 
me to the knowledge that it is possible for a man 
to live in a palace without wanting either guards 
or embroidered dresses, or torches and statues, 
and such-like show; but that it is in such a man's 
power to bring himself very near to the fashion 
of a private person, without being for this reason 
either meaner in thought, or more remiss in 
action, with respect to the things which must 
be done for the public interest in a manner that 
befits a ruler. I thank the gods for giving me 
such a brother, who was able by his moral char¬ 
acter to rouse me to vigilance over myself, and 
who at the same time pleased me by his respect 
and affection; that my children have not been 
stupid nor deformed in body; that I did not 

9 


make more proficiency in rhetoric, poetry, and 
the other studies, in which I should perhaps 
have been completely engaged, if I had seen that 
I was making progress in them; that I made 
haste to place those who brought me tip in the 
station of honor, which they seemed to desire, 
without putting them off with hope of my doing 
it some other time after, because they were 
then still young; that I knew Apollonius, Rusti- 
cus, Maximus; that I received clear and frequent 
impressions about living according to nature, 
and what kind of a life that is, so that, so far as 
depended on the gods, and their gifts, and help, 
and inspirations, nothing hindered me from 
forthwith living according to nature, though I 
still fall short of it through my own fault, and 
through not observing the admonitions of the 
gods, and, I may almost say, their direct in¬ 
structions; that my body has held out so long 
in such a kind of life; that I never did anything 
of which I had occasion to repent; that, though 
it was my mother's fate to die young, she spent 
the last years of her life with me; that, when¬ 
ever I wished to help any man in his need, or on 
any other occasion, I was never told that I had 
not the means of doing it; and that to myself the 
same necessity never happened, to receive any¬ 
thing from another; that I have such a wife, so 
obedient, and so affectionate, and so simple; 
that I had abundance of good masters for my 
children; and that, when I had an inclination 
10 


to philosophy, I did not fall into the hands of any 
sophist, and that I did not waste my time on 
writers [of histories], or in the resolution of 
syllogisms, or occupy myself about the investiga¬ 
tion of appearances in the heavens; for all these 
things require the help of the gods and fortune. 

Among the Qtiadi at the Grantia. 


II 


n 

EGIN the morning by saying to 
thyself, I shall meet with the 
busybody, the ungrateful, arro¬ 
gant, deceitful, envious, unso¬ 
cial* All these things happen 
to them by reason of their igno¬ 
rance of what is good and evil* 
But I who have seen the nature of the good that 
it is beautiful, and of the bad that it is ugly, and 
the nature of him who does wrong, that it is akin 
to me, not [only] of the same blood or seed, but 
that it participates in [the same] intelligence and 
[the same] portion of the divinity, I can neither 
be injured by any of them, for no one can fix on 
me what is ugly, nor can I be angry with my 
kinsman, nor hate him* For we are made for 
co-operation, like feet, like hands, like eyelids, 
like the rows of the upper and lower teeth. To 
act against one another, then, is contrary to 
nature; and it is acting against one another 
to be vexed and to turn away. 

\2 







t[ 2. Whatever this is that I am, it is a little 
flesh and breath, and the ruling part* Throw 
away thy books; no longer distract thyself: 
it is not allowed; but as if thou wast now dying, 
despise the flesh; it is blood and bones and a 
network, a contexture of nerves, veins, and ar¬ 
teries* See the breath also, what kind of a thing 
it is; air, and not always the same, but every 
moment sent out and again sucked in* The 
third, then, is the ruling part; consider thus: 
Thou art an old man; no longer let this be a 
slave, no longer be pulled by the strings like 
a puppet to unsocial movements, no longer be 
either dissatisfied with thy present lot, or shrink 
from the future* 

3* All that is from the gods is full of provi¬ 
dence. That which is from fortune is not sepa¬ 
rated from nature or without an interweaving 
and involution with the things which are ordered 
by providence* From whence all things flow; 
and there is besides necessity, and that which is 
for the advantage of the whole universe, of which 
thou art a part. But that is good for every part 
of nature which the nature of the whole brings, 
and what serves to maintain this nature* Now 
the universe is preserved, as by the changes of 
the elements so by the changes of things com¬ 
pounded of the elements. Let these principles 
be enough for thee; let them always be fixed 
opinions. But cast away the thirst after books, 
that thou mayest not die murmuring, but cheer- 

13 


fully, truly, and from thy heart thankful to the 
gods* 

Q 4. Remember how long thou hast been put¬ 
ting off these things, and how often thou hast 
received an opportunity from the gods, and yet 
dost not use it* Thou must now at last perceive 
of what universe thou art a part, and of what 
administrator of the universe thy existence is an 
efflux, and that a limit of time is fixed for thee, 
which if thou dost not use for clearing away the 
clouds from thy mind, it will go and thou wilt go, 
and it will never return. 

5* Every moment think steadily as a Ro¬ 
man and a man to do what thou hast in hand 
with perfect and simple dignity, and feeling of 
affection, and freedom, and justice, and to give 
thyself relief from all other thoughts. And thou 
wilt give thyself relief if thou doest every act of 
thy life as if it were the last, laying aside all care¬ 
lessness and passionate aversion from the com¬ 
mands of reason, and all hypocrisy, and self-love, 
and discontent with the portion which has been 
given to thee. Thou seest how few the things 
are, the which if a man lays hold of, he is able to 
live a life which flows in quiet, and is like the 
existence of the gods; for the gods on their part 
will require nothing more from him who observes 
these things. 

C, 6. Do wrong to thyself, do wrong to thyself, 
my soul; but thou wilt no longer have the oppor¬ 
tunity of honoring thyself. Every man's life is 
14 


sufficient. But thine is nearly finished, though 
thy soul reverences not itself, but places thy 
felicity in the souls of others. 

C, 7. Do the things external which fall upon 
thee distract thee? Give thyself time to learn 
something new and good, and cease to be 
whirled around. But then thou must also avoid 
being carried about the other way; for those 
too are triflers who have wearied themselves in 
life by their activity, and yet have no object to 
which to direct every movement, and, in a word, 
all their thoughts. 

8. Through not observing what is in the 
mind of another a man has seldom been seen to 
be unhappy; but those who do not observe the 
movements of their own minds must of necessity 
be unhappy. 

9. This thou must always bear in mind, 
what is the nature of the whole, and what is my 
nature, and how this is related to that, and what 
kind of a part it is of what kind of a whole, and 
that there is no one who hinders thee from always 
doing and saying the things which are according 
to the nature of which thou art a part. 

C; 10. Since it is possible that thou mayest de¬ 
part from life this very moment, regulate every 
act and thought accordingly. But to go away 
from among men, if there are gods, is not a thing 
to be afraid of, for the gods will not involve thee 
in evil; but if indeed they do not exist, or if they 
have no concern about human affairs, what is it 

15 


to me to live in a universe devoid of gods or de¬ 
void of providence ? But in truth they do exist, 
and they do care for human things, and they 
have put all the means in man's power to enable 
him not to fall into real evils* And as to the rest, 
if there was anything evil, they would have pro¬ 
vided for this also, that it should be altogether 
in a man's power not to fall into it* Now that 
which does not make a man worse, how can it 
make a man's life worse ? But neither through 
ignorance, nor having the knowledge but not the 
power to guard against or correct these things, is 
it possible that the nature of the universe has 
overlooked them; nor is it possible that it has 
made so great a mistake, either through want of 
power or want of skill, that good and evil should 
happen indiscriminately to the good and the bad. 
But death certainly, and life, honor and dis¬ 
honor, pain and pleasure, — all these things 
equally happen to good men and bad, being 
things which make us neither better nor 
worse* Therefore they are neither good nor 
evil. 

<[11 ♦How quickly all things disappear,— 
in the universe the bodies themselves, but in 
time the remembrance of them* What is the 
nature of all sensible things, and particularly 
those which attract with the bait of pleasure or 
terrify by pain, or are noised abroad by vapory 
fame; how worthless, and contemptible, and 
sordid, and perishable, and dead they are*- 8 * 

16 


all this ft is the part of the intellectual faculty to 
observe. To observe too who these are whose 
opinions and voices give reputation; what death 
is, and the fact that, if a man looks at it in itself, 
and by the abstractive power of reflection re¬ 
solves into their parts all the things which pre¬ 
sent themselves to the imagination in it, he will 
then consider it to be nothing else than an opera¬ 
tion of nature; and if any one is afraid of an 
operation of nature, he is a child. This, however, 
is not only an operation of nature, but it is also 
a thing which conduces to the purposes of nature. 
To observe too how man comes near to the Deity, 
and by what part of him, and when this part of 
man is so disposed. 

([ 12. Nothing is more wretched than a man 
who traverses everything in a round, and pries 
into the things beneath the earth, as the poet 
says, and seeks by conjecture what is in the 
minds of his neighbors, without perceiving that 
it is sufficient to attend to the daemon within 
him, and to reverence it sincerely. And rever¬ 
ence of the daemon consists in keeping ft pure 
from passion and thoughtlessness, and dissatis¬ 
faction with what comes from gods and men. 
For the things from the gods merit veneration 
for their excellence; and the things from men 
should be dear to us by reason of kinship; and 
sometimes even, in a manner, they move our pity 
by reason of men's ignorance of good and bad; 
this defect being not less than that which deprives 

M 


us of the power of distinguishing things that are 
white and black* 

c. 13. Though thou shouldest be going to live 
three thousand years, and as many times ten 
thousand years, still remember that no man loses 
any other life than this which he now lives, nor 
lives any other than this which he now loses* 
The longest and shortest are thus brought to the 
same* For the present is the same to all, though 
that which perishes is not the same; and so that 
which is lost appears to be a mere moment. For 
a man cannot lose either the past or the future: 
for what a man has not, how can any one take 
this from him ? These two things then thou must 
bear in mind; the one, that all things from eter¬ 
nity are of like forms and come round in a circle, 
and that it makes no difference whether a man 
shall see the same things during a hundred years, 
or two hundred, or an infinite time; and the 
second, that the longest liver and he who will die 
soonest lose just the same. For the present is 
the only thing of which a man can be deprived, 
if it is true that this is the only thing which he 
has, and that a man cannot lose a thing if he has 
it not* 

€[ 14* The soul of man does violence to itself, 
first of all, when it becomes an abscess, and, as 
it were, a tumor on the universe, so far as it can* 
For to be vexed at anything which happens is a 
separation of ourselves from nature, in some part 
of which the natures of all other things are con- 

18 


tamed* In the next place, the soul does violence 
to itself when it turns away from any man, or 
even moves towards him with the intention of 
injuring, such as are the souls of those who are 
angry* In the third place, the soul does violence 
to itself when it is overpowered by pleasure or 
by pain* Fourthly, when it plays a part, and 
does or says anything insincerely and untruly* 
Fifthly, when it allows any act of its own and 
any movement to be without an aim, and does 
anything thoughtlessly and without considering 
what it is, it being right that even the smallest 
things be done with reference to an end; and the 
end of rational animals is to follow the reason 
and the law of the most ancient city and polity* 
15* Of human life the time is a point, and 
the substance is in a flux, and the perception dull, 
and the composition of the whole body subject 
to putrefaction, and the soul a whirl, and fortune 
hard to divine, and fame a thing devoid of judg¬ 
ment* And, to say all in a word, everything which 
belongs to the body is a stream, and what be¬ 
longs to the soul is a dream and vapor, and life 
is a warfare and a stranger's sojourn, and after¬ 
fame is oblivion* What then is that which is 
able to conduct a man? One thing, and only 
one, philosophy* But this consists in keep¬ 
ing the daemon within a man free from violence 
and unharmed, superior to pains and pleasures, 
doing nothing without a purpose, nor yet 
falsely and with hypocrisy, not feeling the need 

19 


of another man's doing or not doing any¬ 
thing; and besides, accepting all that happens, 
and all that is allotted, as coming from thence, 
wherever it is, from whence he himself came; 
and, finally, waiting for death with a cheerful 
mind, as being nothing else than a dissolution 
of the elements of which every living being is 
compounded. But if there is no harm to the 
elements themselves in each continually chang¬ 
ing into another, why should a man have any 
apprehension about the change and dissolution 
of all the elements ? For it is according to na¬ 
ture, and nothing is evil which is according to 
nature. 

This in Carnuntum. 


20 


Ill 



p^*lE ought to consider not only that 
our life is daily wasting away 
and a smaller part of it is left, 
^ but another thing also must be 
^ taken into the account, that if a 
man should live longer, it is 
quite uncertain whether the 
understanding will still continue sufficient for 
the comprehension of things, and retain the 
power of contemplation which strives to acquire 
the knowledge of the divine and the human* 
For if he shall begin to fall into dotage, perspira¬ 
tion and nutrition and imagination and appetite, 
and whatever else there is of the kind, will not 
fail; but the power of making use of ourselves, 
and filling up the measure of our duty, and 
clearly separating all appearances, and consider¬ 
ing whether a man should now depart from life, 
and whatever else of the kind absolutely re¬ 
quires a disciplined reason, — all this is already 
extinguished. "We must make haste, then, not 
only because we are daily nearer to death, but 

21 





also because the conception of things and the 
understanding of them cease first* 

2* We ought to observe also that even the 
things which follow after the things which are 
produced according to nature contain something 
pleasing and attractive* For instance, when 
bread is baked some parts are split at the sur¬ 
face, and these parts which thus open, and have 
a certain fashion contrary to the purpose of the 
baker's art, are beautiful in a manner, and in a 
peculiar way excite a desire for eating. And 
again, figs, when they are quite ripe, gape open; 
and in the ripe olives the very circumstance of 
their being near to rottenness adds a peculiar 
beauty to the fruit* And the ears of corn bendmg 
down, and the lion's eyebrows, and the foam 
which flows from the mouth of wild boars, and 
many other things, — though they are far from 
being beautiful if a man should examine them 
severally, — still, because they are consequent 
upon the things which are formed by nature, help 
to adorn them, and they please the mind; so that 
if a man should have a feeling and deeper insight 
with respect to the things which are produced 
in the universe, there is hardly one of those which 
follow by way of consequence which will not 
seem to him to be in a manner disposed so as to 
give pleasure* And so he will see even the real 
gaping jaws of wild beasts with no less pleasure 
than those which painters and sculptors show by 
imitation; and in an old woman and an old man 
22 


he will be able to see a certain maturity and 
comeliness; and the attractive loveliness of 
young persons he will be able to look on with 
chaste eyes; and many such things will present 
themselves, not pleasing to every man, but to 
him only who has become truly familiar with 
Nature and her works* 

3. Do not waste the remainder of thy life 
in thoughts about others, when thou dost not 
refer thy thoughts to some object of common 
utility* For thou losest the opportunity of doing 
something else when thou hast such thoughts as 
these, — What is such a person doing, and why, 
and what is he saying, and what is he thinking 
of, and what is he contriving, and whatever else 
of the kind makes us wander away from the ob¬ 
servation of our own ruling power* We ought 
then to check in the series of our thoughts every¬ 
thing that is without a purpose and useless, but 
most of all the over-curious feeling and the malig¬ 
nant; and a man should use himself to think of 
those things only about which if one should sud¬ 
denly ask, What hast thou now in thy thoughts > 
with perfect openness thou mightest immediately 
answer. This or That; so that from thy words 
it should be plain that everything in thee is 
simple and benevolent, and such as befits a social 
animal, and one that cares not for thoughts about 
pleasure or sensual enjoyments at all, nor has 
any rivalry or envy and suspicion, or anything 
else for which thou wouldst blush if thou 

23 


shouldst say that thou hadst it in thy mind* For 
the man who is such, and no longer delays being 
among the number of the best, is like a priest and 
minister of the gods, using too the [deity] which 
is planted within him, which makes the man un¬ 
contaminated by pleasure, unharmed by any 
pain, untouched by any insult, feeling no wrong, 
a fighter in the noblest fight, one who cannot be 
overpowered by any passion, dyed deep with 
justice, accepting with all his soul everything 
which happens and is assigned to him as his por¬ 
tion; and not often, nor yet without great neces¬ 
sity and for the general interest, imagining what 
another says, or does, or thinks* For it is only 
what belongs to himself that he makes the matter 
for his activity; and he constantly thinks of that 
which is allotted to himself out of the sum total 
of things, and he makes his own acts fair, and he 
is persuaded that his own portion is good*£For 
the lot which is assigned to each man is carried 
along with him and carries him along with it£j 
And he remembers also that every rational ani¬ 
mal is his kinsman, and that to care for all men 
is according to man's nature; and a man should 
hold on to the opinion not of all, but of those only 
who confessedly live according to nature. But 
as to those who live not so, he always bears in 
mind what kind of men they are both at home 
and from home, both by night and by day, and 
what they are, and with what men they live an 
impure life. Accordingly, he does not value at 
24 


all the praise which comes from such men, since 
they are not even satisfied with themselves* 

S 4* Labor not unwillingly, nor without re- 
to the common interest, nor without due 
consideration, nor with distraction; nor let 
studied ornaments set off thy thoughts, and be 
not either a man of many words, or busy about 
too many things* And further, let the deity 
which is in thee be the guardian of a living being, 
manly and of ripe age, and engaged in matter 
political, and a Roman, and a ruler, who has 
taken his post like a man waiting for the signal 
which summons him from life, and ready to go, 
having need neither of oath nor of any man's 
testimony. Be cheerful also, and seek not exter¬ 
nal help nor the tranquillity which others give* \ 
A man then must stand erect, not be kept erect | 
by others* 

C. 5* If thou findest in human life anything 
better than justice, truth, temperance, fortitude, 
and, in a word, anything better than thy own 
mind's self-satisfaction in the things which it 
enables thee to do according to right reason, and 
in the condition that is assigned to thee without 
thy own choice; if, I say, thou seest anything 
better than this, turn to it with all thy soul, and 
enjoy that which thou hast found to be the best. 
But if nothing appears to be better than the 
Deity which is planted in thee, which has sub¬ 
jected to itself all thy appetites, and carefully 
examines all the impressions, and, as Socrates 

25 


said, has detached itself from the persuasions 
of sense, and has submitted itself to the gods, and 
cares for mankind; if thou findest everything 
else smaller and of less value than this, give place 
to nothing else, for if thou dost once diverge and 
incline to it, thou wilt no longer without distrac¬ 
tion be able to give the preference to that good 
thing which is thy proper possession and thy 
own; for it is not right that anything of any 
other kind, such as praise from the many, or 
power, or enjoyment of pleasure, should come 
into competition with that which is rationally 
and politically [or, practically] good. All these 
things, even though they may seem to adapt 
themselves [to the better things] in a small de¬ 
gree, obtain the superiority all at once, and carry 
us away. But do thou, I say, simply and freely 
choose the better, and hold to it. — But that 
which is useful is the better. — Well, then, if it 
is useful to thee as a rational being, keep to it; 
but if it is only useful to thee as an animal, say 
so, and maintain thy judgment without arro¬ 
gance: only take care that thou makest the in¬ 
quiry by a sure method. 

Cf- Never value anything as profitable to 
thyself which shall compel thee to break thy 
promise, to lose thy self-respect, to hate any man, 
to suspect, to curse, to act the hypocrite, to desire 
anything which needs walls and curtains: for 
he who has preferred to everything else his own 
intelligence and daemon and the worship of its 

26 


excellence, acts no tragic part, does not groan, 
will not need either solitude or much company; 
and, what is chief of all, he will live without 
either pursuing or flying from [death]; but 
whether for a longer or a shorter time he shall 
have the soul enclosed in the body, he cares not 
at all: for even if he must depart immediately, 
he will go as readily as if he were going to do any¬ 
thing else which can be done with decency and 
order; taking care of this only all through life, 
that his thoughts turn not away from anything 
which belongs to an intelligent animal and a 
member of a civil community* 

7 ♦ In the mind of one who is chastened and 
purified thou wilt find no corrupt matter, nor 
impurity, nor any sore skinned over* Nor is his 
life incomplete when fate overtakes him, as one 
may say of an actor who leaves the stage before 
ending and finishing the play* Besides, there is 
in him nothing servile, nor affected, nor too 
closely bound, nor yet detached, nothing worthy 
of blame, nothing which seeks a hiding-place* 
n 8* Reverence the faculty which produces 
opinion. On this faculty it entirely depends 
whether there shall exist in thy ruling part any 
opinion inconsistent with nature and the consti¬ 
tution of the rational animal* And this faculty 
promises freedom from hasty judgment, and 
friendship towards men, and obedience to the 
gods* 

9* Throwing away then all things, hold to 

27 


these only which are few; and besides, bear in 
mind that every man lives only this present time, 
which is an indivisible point, and that all the 
rest of his life is either past or it is uncertain* 
Short then is the time which every man lives, and 
small the nook of the earth where he lives ; and 
short too the longest posthumous fame, and even 
this only continued by a succession of poor 
human beings, who will very soon die, and who 
know not even themselves, much less him who 
died long ago. 

10. To the aids which have beeifth entioned 
let this one still be added : Make for thyself a 
definition or description of the thing which is 
presented to thee, so as to see distinctly what 
kind of a thing it is in its substance, in its nudity, 
in its complete entirety, and tell thyself its 
proper name, and the names of the things of 
which it has been compounded, and into which it 
will be resolved. For nothing is so productive 
of elevation of mind as to be able to examine 
methodically and truly every object which is 
presented to thee in life, and always to look at 
things so as to see at the same time what kind of 
universe this is, and what kind of use everything 
performs in it, and what value everything has 
with reference to the whole, and what with refer¬ 
ence to man, who is a citizen of the highest city, 
of which all other cities are like families ; what 
each thing is, and of what it is composed, and 
how long it is the nature of this thing to endure 
28 


which now makes an impression on me, and what 
virtue I have need of with respect to it, such as 
gentleness, manliness, truth, fidelity, simplicity, 
contentment, and the rest. Wherefore, on every 
occasion a man should say: This comes from 
God; and this Is according to the apportionment 
and spinning of the thread of destiny, and such¬ 
like coincidence and chance; and this Is from one 
of the same stock, and a kinsman and partner, 
one who knows not, however, what is according 
to his nature. But I know; for this reason I 
behave towards him according to the natural 
law of fellowship with benevolence and justice. 
At the same time, however, in things Indifferent 
I attempt to ascertain the value of each. 

U. If thou workest at that which Is before 
thee, following right reason seriously, vigorously, 
calmly, without allowing anything else to dis¬ 
tract thee, but keeping thy divine part pure, as 
If thou shouldst be bound to give It back im¬ 
mediately; If thou boldest to this, expecting 
nothing, fearing nothing, but satisfied with thy 
present activity according to nature, and with 
heroic truth In every word and sound which thou 
utterest, thou wilt live happy. And there is no 
man who is able to prevent this. 

C, 12. As physicians have always their Instru¬ 
ments and knives ready for cases which suddenly 
require their skill, so do thou have principles 
ready for the understanding of things divine and 
human, and for doing everything, even the small- 

29 


est, with a recollection of the bond which unites 
the divine and human to one another. For 
neither wilt thou do anything well which pertains 
to man without at the same time having a refer¬ 
ence to things divine; nor the contrary. 

C. 13. No longer wander at hazard; for neither 
wilt thou read thy own memoirs, nor the acts of 
the ancient Romans and Hellenes, and the se¬ 
lections from books which thou wast reserving 
for thy old age. Hasten then to the end which 
thou hast before thee, and, throwing away idle 
hopes, come to thy own aid, if thou carest at all 
for thyself, while it is in thy power. 

14. They know not how many things are 
signified by the words stealing, sowing, buying, 
keeping quiet, seeing what ought to be done; 
for this is not effected by the eyes, but by another 
kind of vision. 

tL 15. Body, soul, intelligence: to the body 
belong sensations, to the soul appetites, to the 
intelligence principles. To receive the impres¬ 
sions of forms by means of appearances belongs 
even to animals; to be pulled by the strings of 
desire belongs both to wild beasts and to men 
who have made themselves into women, and to 
a Phalaris and a Nero: and to have the intelli¬ 
gence that guides to the things which appear 
suitable belongs also to those who do not believe 
in the gods, and who betray their country, and 
do their impure deeds when they have shut the 
doors. If then everything else is common to all 
30 


that I have mentioned, there remains that which 
is peculiar to the good man, to be pleased and 
content with what happens, and with the thread 
which is spun for him; and not to defile the di¬ 
vinity which is planted in his breast, nor disturb 
it by a crowd of images, but to preserve it tran¬ 
quil, following it obediently as a god, neither 
saying anything contrary to the truth, nor doing 
anything contrary to justice. And if all men 
refuse to believe that he lives a simple, modest, 
and contented life, he is neither angry with any 
of them, nor does he deviate from the way which 
leads to the end of life, to which a man ought to 
come pure, tranquil, ready to depart, and with¬ 
out any compulsion perfectly reconciled to his 
lot. 


31 


IV 



VT which rules within, when it 
according to nature, is so 
affected with respect to the 
events which happen, that it 
always easily adapts itself to 
that which is possible and is 
presented to it* For it requires 
no definite material, but it moves towards its 
purpose, under certain conditions, however; 
and it makes a material for itself out of that 
which opposes it, as fire lays hold of what falls 
into it, by which a small light would have been 
extinguished: but when the fire is strong, it soon 
appropriates to itself the matter which is heaped 
on it, and consumes it, and rises higher by means 
of this very material* 

2* Let no act be done without a purpose, 
nor otherwise than according to the perfect 
principles of art. 

H 3. Men seek retreats for themselves, houses 
in the country, sea-shores, and mountains; and 
32 



thou too art wont to desire such things very much. 
But this is altogether a mark of the most common 
sort of men, for it is in thy power whenever thou 
shalt choose to retire into thyself* For nowhere 
either with more quiet or more freedom from 
trouble does a man retire than into his own soul, 
particularly when he has within him such 
thoughts that by looking into them he is im¬ 
mediately in perfect tranquillity; and I affirm 
that tranquillity is nothing else than the good 
ordering of the mind. Constantly then give to 
thyself this retreat, and renew thyself; and let 
thy principles be brief and fundamental, which, 
as soon as thou shalt recur to them, will be suffi¬ 
cient to cleanse the soul completely, and to send 
thee back free from all discontent with the things 
to which thou returnest. For with what art 
thou discontented ? With the badness of men ? 
Recall to thy mind this conclusion, that rational 
animals exist for one another, and that to endure 
is a part of justice, and that men do wrong in¬ 
voluntarily; and consider how many already 
after mutual enmity, suspicion, hatred, and 
fighting, have been stretched dead, reduced to 
ashes; and be quiet at last. — But perhaps thou 
art dissatisfied with that which is assigned to 
thee out of the universe. — Recall to thy recol¬ 
lection this alternative; either there is provi¬ 
dence or atoms; or remember the arguments 
by which it has been proved that the world is a 
kind of political community. — But perhaps cor- 

33 


poreal things will still fasten upon thee* — Con¬ 
sider then farther that the mind mingles not 
with the breath, whether moving gently or vio¬ 
lently, when it has once drawn itself apart and 
discovered its own power, and think also of all 
that thou hast heard and assented to about pain 
and pleasure* — But perhaps the desire of the 
thing called fame will torment thee* — See how 
soon everything is forgotten, and look at the 
chaos of infinite time on each side of [the pres¬ 
ent], and the emptiness of applause, and the 
changeableness and want of judgment in those 
who pretend to give praise, and the narrowness 
of the space within which it is circumscribed* 
For the whole earth is a point, and how small a 
nook in it is this thy dwelling, and how few are 
there in it, and what kind of people are they who 
will praise thee* 

This then remains: Remember to retire into 
this little territory of thy own, and above all 
do not distract or strain thyself, but be free, and 
look at things as a man, as a human being, as a 
citizen, as a mortal. But among the things 
readiest to thy hand to which thou shalt turn, 
let there be these, which are two. One is that 
things do not touch the soul, for they are exter¬ 
nal and remain immovable; but our perturba¬ 
tions come only from the opinion which is within. 
The other is that all these things, which thou 
seest, change immediately and will no longer 
be; and constantly bear in mind how many of 
34 


these changes thou hast already witnessed. The 
universe is transformation: life is opinion. 

C. 4. Death is such as generation is, a mystery 
of nature; composition out of the same elements, 
and a decomposition into the same; and alto¬ 
gether not a thing of which any man should be 
ashamed, for it is not contrary to a reasonable 
animal, and not contrary to the reason of our 
constitution. 

c 5. It is natural that these things should be 
done by such persons, it is a matter of necessity; 
and if a man will not have it so, he will not allow 
the fig-tree to have juice. But by all means 
bear this in mind, that within a very short time 
both thou and he will be dead; and soon not even 
your names will be left behind. 

6* Take away thy opinion, and then there is 
taken away the complaint, “ I have been 
harmed.” Take away the complaint, 44 1 have 
been harmed,” and the harm is taken away. 

7. That which does not make a man worse 
than he was, also does not make his life worse, 
nor does it harm him either from without or 
from within. 

<[ 8. The nature of that which is [universally] 
useful has been compelled to do this. 

fl 9. Consider that everything which happens, 
happens justly, and if thou observest carefully, 
thou wilt find it to be so. I do not say only with 
respect to the continuity of the series of things, 
but with respect to what is just, and as if it were 

35 


done by one who assigns to each thing its value. 
Observe then as thou hast begun; and whatever 
thou doest, do it in conjunction with this, the 
being good, and in the sense in which a man is 
properly understood to be good. Keep to this 
in every action. 

41 10. Do not have such an opinion of things 
as he has who does thee wrong, or such as he 
wishes thee to have, but look at them as they are 
in truth. 

11. A man should always have these two 
rules in readiness; the one to do only whatever 
the reason of the ruling and legislating faculty 
may suggest for the use of men; the other, to 
change thy opinion, if there is any one at hand 
who sets thee right and moves thee from any 
opinion. But this change of opinion must pro¬ 
ceed only from a certain persuasion, as of what is 
just or of common advantage, and the like, not 
because it appears pleasant or brings reputation. 

C. 12. Hast thou reason ? I have.—Why then 
dost not thou use it ? For if this does its own 
work, what else dost thou wish ? 

13. Thou hast existed as a part. Thou shalt 
disappear in that which produced thee; but 
rather thou shalt be received back into its 
seminal principle by transmutation. 

H 14. Many grains of frankincense on the 
same altar: one falls before, another falls after; 
but it makes no difference. 

<U5. Do not act as if thou wert going to live 
36 


ten thousand years. Death hangs over thee. 
While thou livest, while it is in thy power, be good. 

16. How much trouble he avoids who does 
not look to see what his neighbor says or does 
or thinks, but only to what he does himself, that 
it may be just and pure; look not round at the 
depraved morals of others, but run straight 
along the line without deviating from it. 

<£17.He who has a vehement desire for 
posthumous fame does not consider that every 
one of those who remember him will himself 
also die very soon; then again also they who 
have succeeded them, until the whole remem¬ 
brance shall have been extinguished as it is 
transmitted through men who foolishly admire 
and perish. But suppose that those who will 
remember are even immortal, and that the re¬ 
membrance will be immortal, what then is this to 
thee ? And I say not what is it to the dead, but 
what is it to the living. What is praise, except 
indeed so far as it has a certain utility? For 
thou now rejectest unseasonably the gift of na¬ 
ture, clinging to something else. ♦ . . 

C 18. Everything which is in any way beauti¬ 
ful Is beautiful in itself, and terminates in itself, 
not having praise as part of itself. Neither 
worse then nor better is a thing made by being 
praised. I affirm this also of the things which 
are called beautiful by the vulgar, for example, 
material things and works of art. That which 
is really beautiful has no need of anything; not 

37 


more than law, not more than troth, not more 
than benevolence or modesty. Which of these 
things is beautiful because it is praised, or spoiled 
by being blamed ? Is such a thing as an emerald 
made worse than it was, if it is not praised ? or 
gold, ivory, purple, a lyre, a little knife, a flower, 
a shrub? 

C. 19. If souls continue to exist; how does the 
air contain them from eternity ? — But how does 
the earth contain the bodies of those who have 
been buried from time so remote ? For as here 
the mutation of these bodies after a certain con¬ 
tinuance, whatever it may be, and their dissolu¬ 
tion make room for other dead bodies, so the 
souls which are removed into the air after sub¬ 
sisting for some time are transmuted and dif¬ 
fused, and assume a fiery nature by being re¬ 
ceived into the seminal intelligence of the uni¬ 
verse, and in this way make room for the fresh 
souls which come to dwell there. And this is the 
answer which a man might give on the hypothe¬ 
sis of souls continuing to exist. But we must not 
only think of the number of bodies which are thus 
buriedf but also of the number of animals which 
are daily eaten by us and the other animals. For 
what a number is consumed, and thus in a man¬ 
ner buried in the bodies of those who feed on 
them! And nevertheless this earth receives 
them by reason of the changes [of these bodies] 
into blood, and the transformations into the 
aerial or the fiery elements. 

38 


20. Do not be whirled about, but in every 
movement have respect to justice, and on the 
occasion of every impression maintain the 
faculty of comprehension [or understanding]. 

<L 21. Everything harmonizes with me, which 
is harmonious to thee, 0 Universe. Nothing for 
me is too early nor too late, which is in due time 
for thee. Everything is fruit to me which thy 
seasons bring, 0 Nature: from thee are all 
things, in thee are all things, to thee all 
things return. The poet says. Dear city of 
Cecrops; and wilt not thou say. Dear city of 
Zeus? 

c 22. Occupy thyself with few things, says 
the philosopher, if thou wouldst be tranquil. — 
But consider if it would not be better to say. Do 
what is necessary, and whatever the reason of 
the animal which is naturally social requires, and 
as it requires. For this brings not only the tran¬ 
quillity which comes from doing well, but also 
that which comes from doing few things. For 
the greatest part of what we say and do being 
unnecessary, if a man takes this away, he will 
have more leisure and less uneasiness. Accord¬ 
ingly, on every occasion a man should ask him¬ 
self, Is this one of the unnecessary things ? Now 
a man should take away not only unnecessary 
acts, but also unnecessary thoughts, for thus 
superfluous acts will not follow after. 

23. Try how the life of the good man suits 
thee, the life of him who is satisfied with his 

39 


portion out of the whole, and satisfied with his 
own just acts and benevolent disposition. 

c. 24. Hast thou seen those things? Look also 
at these. Do not disturb thyself. Make thyself 
all simplicity. Does any one do wrong ? It is 
to himself that he does the wrong. Has anything 
happened to thee? Well; out of the universe 
from the beginning everything which happens 
has been apportioned and spun out to thee. In 
a word, thy life is short. Thou must turn to 
profit the present by the aid of reason and justice. 
Be sober in thy relaxation. 

25. Either it is a well-arranged universe 
or a chaos huddled together, but still a uni¬ 
verse. But can a certain order subsist in thee, 
and disorder in All? And this too when all 
things are so separated and diffused and sympa¬ 
thetic. 

C. 26. If he is a stranger to the universe who 
does not know what is in it, no less is he a 
stranger who does not know what is going on in 
it. He is a runaway, who flies from social 
reason; he is blind, who shuts the eyes of the 
understanding; he is poor, who has need of an¬ 
other, and has not from himself all things which 
are useful for life. He is an abscess on the uni¬ 
verse who withdraws and separates himself 
from the reason of our common nature through 
being displeased with the things which happen, 
for the same nature produces this, and has pro¬ 
duced thee too: he is a piece rent asunder from 
40 


the state, who tears his own soul from that of 
reasonable animals, which is one. 

<[ 27. Love the art, poor as it may be, which 
thou hast learned, and be content with it; and 
pass through the rest of life like one who has 
intrusted to the gods with his whole soul all that 
he has, making thyself neither the tyrant nor the 
slave of any man. 

28. All things soon pass away and become a 
mere tale, and complete oblivion soon buries 
them. And I say this of those who have shone 
in a wondrous way. For the rest, as soon as they 
have breathed out their breath, they are gone, 
and no man speaks of them. And, to conclude 
the matter, what is even an eternal remem¬ 
brance ? A mere nothing. What then is that 
about which we ought to employ our serious 
pains ? This one thing, thoughts just, and acts 
social, and words which never lie, and a disposi¬ 
tion which gladly accepts all that happens, as 
necessary, as usual, as flowing from a principle 
and source of the same kind. 

c 29. Willingly give thyself up to Clotho, al¬ 
lowing her to spin thy thread into whatever 
things she pleases. 

<[ 30. Everything is only for a day, both that 
which remembers and that which is remem¬ 
bered. 

31. Thou wilt soon die, and thou art not 
yet simple, nor free from perturbations, nor 
without suspicion of being hurt by external 

41 


things, nor kindly disposed towards all; nor dost 
thou yet place wisdom only in acting justly* 

32. Examine men's ruling principles, even 
those of the wise, what kind of things they avoid; 
and what kind they pursue. 

C. 33. Time is like a river made up of the 
events which happen, and a violent stream; for 
as soon as a thing has been seen, it is carried 
away, and another comes in its place, and this 
will be carried away too. 

n 34. Everything which happens is as familiar 
and well known as the rose in spring and the 
fruit in summer; for such is disease, and death, 
and calumny, and treachery, and whatever else 
delights fools or vexes them. 

35. If any god told thee that thou shalt die 
to-morrow, or certainly on the day after to¬ 
morrow, thou wouldst not care much whether 
it was on the third day or on the morrow, unless 
thou wast in the highest degree mean-spirited; 
for how small is the difference. So think it no 
great thing to die after as many years as thou 
canst name rather than to-morrow. 

36. Think continually how many physicians 
are dead after often contracting their eyebrows 
over the sick; and how many astrologers after 
predicting with great pretensions the deaths of 
others; and how many philosophers after end¬ 
less discourses on death or immortality; how 
many heroes after killing thousands; and how 
many tyrants who have used their power over 

42 


men's lives with terrible insolence, as if they 
were immortal; and how many cities are en¬ 
tirely dead, so to speak, Helice and Pompeii and 
Herculanum, and others innumerable* Add to 
the reckoning all whom thou hast known, one 
after another. One man after burying another 
has been laid out dead, and another buries him; 
and all this in a short time. To conclude, always 
observe how ephemeral and worthless human 
things are, and what was yesterday a little 
mucus, to-morrow will be a mummy or ashes. 
Pass then through this little space of time con¬ 
formably to nature, and end thy journey in 
content, just as an olive falls off when it is ripe, 
blessing nature who produced it, and thanking 
the tree on which it grew. 

37. Be like the promontory against which 
the waves continually break, but it stands firm 
and tames the fury of the water around it. 

Unhappy am I because this has happened to 
me ? Not so, but happy am I, though this has 
happened to me, because I continue free from 
pain, neither crushed by the present nor fearing 
the future. For such a thing as this might have 
happened to every man; but every man would 
not have continued free from pain on such an 
occasion. Why then is that rather a misfortune 
than this a good fortune ? And dost thou in all 
cases call that a man's misfortune which is not 
a deviation from man's nature? And does a 
thing seem to thee to be a deviation from man's 

43 


nature, when it is not contrary to the will of 
man's nature. Well, thou knowest the will of 
nature ? Will then this which has happened pre¬ 
vent thee from being just, magnanimous, tem¬ 
perate, prudent, secure against inconsiderate 
opinions and falsehood; will it prevent thee from 
having modesty, freedom, and everything else, 
by the presence of which man's nature obtains 
all that is its own ? Remember too on every 
occasion which leads thee to vexation to apply 
this principle: not that this is a misfortune, but 
that to bear it nobly is good fortune. 

C. 38. Always run to the short way; and the 
short way is the natural: accordingly say and 
do everything in conformity with the soundest 
reason. For such a purpose frees a man from 
trouble, and warfare, and all artifice and ostenta¬ 
tious display. 


44 


V 

*T the morning when thou risest 
unwillingly, let this thought be 
present, — I am rising to the 
work of a human being* Why 
then am I dissatisfied if I am 
going to do the things for which 
I exist and for which I was 
brought into the world ? Or have I been made 
for this, to lie in the bed-clothes and keep myself 
warm? — But this is more pleasant* — Dost 
thou exist then to take thy pleasure, and not at 
all for action or exertion* Dost thou not see 
the little plants, the little birds, the ants, the 
spiders, the bees working together to put in 
order their several parts of the universe ? And 
art thou unwilling to do the work of a human 
being, and dost thou not make haste to do that 
which is according to thy nature? — But it is 
necessary to take rest also* — It is necessary* 
However, Nature has fixed bounds to this too: 
she has fixed bounds to eating and drinking, &nd 

45 




yet thou goest beyond these bounds, beyond 
what is sufficient; yet in thy acts it is not so, 
but thou stoppest short of what thou canst do. 
So thou lovest not thyself, for if thou didst, thou 
wouldst love thy nature and her will. But those 
who love their several arts exhaust themselves 
in working at them unwashed and without food; 
but thou valuest thy own nature less than the 
turner values the turning art, or the dancer the 
dancing art, or the lover of money values his 
money, or the vainglorious man his little glory. 
And such men, when they have a violent affec¬ 
tion to a thing, choose neither to eat nor to sleep 
rather than to perfect the things which they 
care for. But are the acts which concern society 
more vile in thy eyes and less worthy of thy 
labor ? 

2. How easy it is to repel and to wipe away 
every impression which is troublesome or un¬ 
suitable, and immediately to be in all tran¬ 
quillity. 

t[ 3. Judge every word and deed which are 
according to nature to be fit for thee; and be not 
diverted by the blame which follows from any 
people nor by their words, but if a thing is good 
to be done or said, do not consider it unworthy 
of thee. For those persons have their peculiar 
leading principle and follow their peculiar move¬ 
ment; which things do not thou regard, but go 
straight on, following thy own nature and the 
common nature; and the way of both is one. 
46 


<14*1 go through the things which happen 
according to nature until I shall fall and rest, 
breathing out my breath into that element out 
of which I daily draw it in, and falling upon that 
earth out of which my father collected the seed, 
and my mother the blood, and my nurse the 
milk; out of which during so many years I have 
been supplied with food and drink; which bears 
me when I tread on it and abuse it for so many 
purposes, 

<15* Thou sayest, Men cannot admire the 
sharpness of thy wits* — Be it so: but there are 
many other things of which thou canst not say, 
I am not formed for them by nature* Show those 
qualities then which are altogether in thy power, 
sincerity, gravity, endurance of labor, aversion 
to pleasure, contentment with thy portion and 
with few things, benevolence, frankness, no love 
of superfluity, freedom from trifling, magna¬ 
nimity* Dost thou not see how many qualities 
thou art immediately able to exhibit, in which 
there is no excuse of natural incapacity and un¬ 
fitness, and yet thou still remainest voluntarily 
below the mark ? or art thou compelled through 
being defectively furnished by nature to murmur 
and to be stingy, and to flatter, and to find fault 
with thy poor body, and to try to please men, 
and to make great display, and to be so restless 
inthymind? No,bythe gods; but thou mightest 
have been delivered from these things long ago. 
Only if in truth thou canst be charged with being 

47 


rather slow and dull of comprehension, thou 
must exert thyself about this also, not neg¬ 
lecting it nor yet taking pleasure in thy 
dulness. 

X C. 6. One man, when he has done a service to 
another, is ready to set it down to his account as 
a favor conferred. Another is not ready to do 
this, but still in his own mind he thinks of the 
man as his debtor, and he knows what he has 
done. A third in a manner does not even know 
what he has done, but he is like a vine which 
has produced grapes, and seeks for nothing more 
after it has once produced its proper fruit. As 
a horse when he has run, a dog when he has 
tracked the game, a bee when it has made the 
honey, so a man when he has done a good act, 
does not call out for others to come and see, 
but he goes on to another act, as a vine goes on 
to produce again the grapes in season. — Must 
a man then be one of these, who in a manner act 
thus without observing it? — Yes. — But this 
very thing is necessary, the observation of what 
a man is doing: for, it may be said, it is charac¬ 
teristic of the social animal to perceive that he is 
working in a social manner, and indeed to wish 
that his social partner also should perceive it. 
— It is true what thou sayest, but thou dost not 
rightly understand what is now said: and for 
this reason thou wilt become one of those of 
whom I spoke before, for even they are misled by 
a certain show of reason. But if thou wilt choose 
48 


to understand the meaning of what is said, do 
not fear that for this reason thou wilt omit any 
social act* 

7* A prayer of the Athenians: Rain, rain, 
0 dear Zeus, down on the ploughed fields of the 
Athenians and on the plains* — In truth we 
ought not to pray at all, or we ought to pray in 
this simple and noble fashion* 

«; 8. Be not disgusted, nor discouraged, nor 
dissatisfied, if thou dost not succeed in doing 
everything according to right principles, but 
when thou hast failed, return back again, and be 
content if the greater part of what thou doest is 
consistent with man's nature, and love this to 
which thou returnest; and do not return to 
philosophy as if she were a master, but act like 
those who have sore eyes and apply a bit of 
sponge and egg, or as another applies a plaster, 
or drenching with water. For thus thou wilt not 
fail to obey reason, and thou wilt repose in it. 
And remember that philosophy requires only 
the things which thy nature requires; but thou 
wouldst have something else which is not ac¬ 
cording to nature* — It may be objected, Why, 
what is more agreeable than this [which I am 
doing] ? — But is not this the very reason why 
pleasure deceives us? And consider if magna¬ 
nimity, freedom, simplicity, equanimity, piety, 
are not more agreeable. For what is more agree¬ 
able than wisdom itself, when thou thinkest of 
the security and the happy course of all things 

49 


which depend on the faculty of understanding 
and knowledge? 

9. Things are in such a kind of envelopment 
that they have seemed to philosophers, not a few 
nor those common philosophers, altogether un¬ 
intelligible; nay even to the Stoics themselves 
they seem difficult to understand* And all our 
assent is changeable; for where is the man who 
never changes ? Carry thy thoughts then to the 
objects themselves, and consider how short¬ 
lived they are and worthless, and that they may 
be in the possession of a filthy wretch or a whore 
or a robber* Then turn to the morals of those 
who live with thee, and it is hardly possible to 
endure even the most agreeable of them, to say 
nothing of a man being hardly able to endure 
himself* In such darkness then and dirt, and in 
so constant a flux both of substance and of time, 
and of motion and of things moved, what there 
is worth being highly prized, or even an object 
of serious pursuit, I cannot imagine* But on 
the contrary it is a man's duty to comfort him¬ 
self, and to wait for the natural dissolution, and 
not to be vexed at the delay, but to rest in these 
principles only: the one, that nothing will 
happen to me which is not conformable to the 
nature of the universe; and the other, that it is 
in my power never to act contrary to my god 
and daemon: for there is no man who will com¬ 
pel me to this. 

10. About what am I now employing my 

50 


own son! ? On every occasion I must ask myself 
this question, and inquire, What have I now in 
this part of me which they call the ruling prin¬ 
ciple ? and whose soul have I now, — that of a 
child, or of a young man, or of a feeble woman, 
or of a tyrant, or of a domestic animal, or of a 
wild beast ? 

«;n. Such as are thy habitual thoughts, such 
also will be the character of thy mind; for the 
soul is dyed by the thoughts* Dye it then with 
a continuous series of such thoughts as these: 
for instance, that where a man can live, there he 
can also live well* But he must live in a palace; 
well then, he can also live well in a palace* And 
again, consider that for whatever purpose each 
thing has been constituted, for this it has been 
constituted, and towards this it is carried; and 
its end is in that towards which it is carried; 
and where the end is, there also is the advantage 
and the good of each thing. Now the good for 
the reasonable animal is society; for that we are 
made for society has been shown above* Is it 
not plain that the inferior exist for the sake of 
the superior ? But the things which have life are 
superior to those which have not life, and of those 
which have life the superior are those which have 
reason* 

n 12* To seek what is impossible is madness: 
and it is impossible that the bad should not do 
something of this kind. 

fl 13. Nothing happens to any man which he 

51 


is not formed by nature to bear. The same 
things happen to another, and either because he 
does not see that they have happened, or because 
he would show a great spirit, he is firm and re¬ 
mains unharmed. It is a shame then that 
ignorance and conceit should be stronger than 
wisdom. 

C, 14. Things themselves touch not the soul, 
not in the least degree; nor have they admis¬ 
sion to the soul, nor can they turn or move 
the soul: but the soul turns and moves itself 
alone, and whatever judgments it may think 
proper to make, such it makes for itself the 
things which present themselves to it. 

C. 15. In one respect man is the nearest 
thing to me, so far as I must do good to men 
and endure them. But so far as some men 
make themselves obstacles to my proper acts, 
man becomes to me one of the things which 
are indifferent, no less than the sun or wind 
or a wild beast. Now it is true that these 
may impede my action, but they are no im¬ 
pediments to my affects and disposition, which 
have the power of acting conditionally and 
changing: for the mind converts and changes 
every hindrance to its activity into an aid; and 
so that which is a hindrance is made a further¬ 
ance to an act; and that which is an obstacle 
on the road helps us on this road. 

16. Reverence that which is best in the 
universe; and this is that which makes use 
52 


of all things and directs all things* And in 
like manner also reverence that which is best 
in thyself; and this is of the same kind as that. 
For in thyself also, that which makes use of 
everything else is this, and thy life is directed 
by this. 

CL 17. That which does no harm to the state, 
does no harm to the citizen. In the case of 
every appearance of harm apply this rule: if 
the state is not harmed by this, neither am I 
harmed. But if the state is harmed, thou must 
not be angry with him who does harm to the 
state. Show him where his error is. 

d!8. Often think of the rapidity with which 
things pass by and disappear, both the things 
which are and the things which are produced. 
For substance is like a river in a continual flow, 
and the activities of things are in constant 
change, and the causes work in infinite varieties; 
and there is hardly anything which stands still. 
And consider this which is near to thee, this 
boundless abyss of the past and of the future in 
which all things disappear. How then is he not 
a fool who is puffed up with such things or 
plagued about them and makes himself miser¬ 
able ? for they vex him only for a time, and a 
short time. 

d 19. Think of the universal substance, of 
which thou hast a very small portion; and of 
universal time, of which a short and indivisible 
interval has been assigned to thee; and of that 

53 


which is fixed by destiny, and how small a part 
of it thou art* 

20. Does another do me wrong ? Let him 
look to it* He has his own disposition, his own 
activity. I now have what the universal nature 
wills me to have; and I do what my nature now 
wills me to do. 

21. Let the part of thy soul which leads and 
governs be undisturbed by the movements in 
the flesh, whether of pleasure or of pain; and 
let it not unite with them, but let it circum¬ 
scribe itself and limit those affects to their parts. 
But when these affects rise up to the mind by 
virtue of that other sympathy that naturally 
exists in a body which is all one, then thou must 
not strive to resist the sensation, for it is natural: 
but let not the ruling part of itself add to the 
sensation the opinion that it is either good or 
bad. 

22. Live with the gods. And he does live 
with the gods who constantly shows to them 
that his own soul is satisfied with that which is 
assigned to him, and that it does all that the 
daemon wishes, which Zeus hath given to every 
man for his guardian and guide, a portion of him¬ 
self. And this is every man's understanding and 
reason. 

23. How hast thou behaved hitherto to the 
gods, thy parents, brethren, children, teachers, 
to those who looked after thy infancy, to thy 
friends, kinsfolk, to thy slaves ? Consider if thou 

54 


hast hitherto behaved to all in such, a way that 
this may be said of thee, — 

** Never has wronged a man in deed or word.” 

And call to recollection both how many things 
thou hast passed through, and how many things 
thou hast been able to endure and that the his¬ 
tory of thy life is now complete and thy service 
is ended; and how many beautiful things thou 
hast seen; and how many pleasures and pains 
thou hast despised; and how many things called 
honorable thou hast spurned; and to how many 
ill-minded folks thou hast shown a kind disposi¬ 
tion. 

24. Soon, very soon, thou wilt be ashes, or 
a skeleton, and either a name or not even a 
name; but name is sound and echo. And the 
things which are much valued in life are empty 
and rotten and trifling, and [like] little dogs 
biting one another, and little childrenqnarrelling, 
laughing, and then straightway weeping. But 
fidelity and modesty and justice and troth are 
fled. 

Up to Olympus from the wide-spread earth. 

(Hesiod, Works, etc. v. 197.) 

What then is there which still detains thee here, 
if the objects of sense are easily changed and 
never stand still, and the organs of perception 
are doll and easily receive false impressions, and 

55 



the poor soul itself is an exhalation from blood ? 
But to have good repute amid such a world as 
this is an empty thing. Why then dost thou not 
wait in tranquillity for thy end, whether it is ex¬ 
tinction or removal to another state ? And until 
that time comes, what is sufficient ? Why, what 
else than to venerate the gods and bless them, 
and to do good to men, and to practise tolerance 
and self-restrant; but as to everything which is 
beyond the limits of the poor flesh and breath, 
to remember that this is neither thine nor in thy 
power. 

25. Thoti canst pass thy life in an equable 
flow of happiness, if thoti canst go by the right 
way, and think and act in the right way. 
These two things are common both to the 
sotil of God and to the sotil of man, and to the 
soul of every rational being: not to be hindered 
by another; and to hold good to consist in the 
disposition to justice and the practice of it, and 
in this to let thy desire find its termination. 


56 



[ET it make no difference to thee 
whether thou art cold or warm, 
if thou art doing thy duty; 
and whether thou art drowsy 
or satisfied with sleep; and 
whether ill-spoken of or praised; 


and whether dying or doing 


something else. For it is one of the acts of life, 
this act, this act by which we die: it is suf¬ 
ficient then in this act also to do well what 
we have in hand. 

fl 2. Look within. Let neither the peculiar 
quality of anything nor its value escape thee. 

C. 3. All existing things soon change, and 
they will either be reduced to vapor, if indeed 
all substance is one, or they will be dispersed. 

C, 4. The reason which governs knows what 
its own disposition is, and what it does, and on 
what material it works. 

5. The best way of avenging thyself is not 
to become like [the wrong-doer]. 

6. Take pleasure in one thing and rest in it. 


57 




in passing from one social act to another social 
act, thinking of God. 

7. The ruling principle is that which rouses 
and turns itself, and while it makes itself such as 
it is and such as it wills to be, it also makes every¬ 
thing which happens appear to itself to be such 
as it wills. 

([ 8. The universe is either a confusion, and a 
mutual involution of things, and a dispersion, 
or it is unity and order and providence. If then 
it is the former, why do I desire to tarry in a 
fortuitous combination of things and such a 
disorder? and why do I care about anything 
else than how I shall at last become earth ? and 
why am I disturbed, for the dispersion of my 
elements will happen whatever I do? But if 
the other supposition is true, I venerate, and I 
am firm, and I trust in him who governs. 

H 9. When thou hast been compelled by cir¬ 
cumstances to be disturbed in a manner, quickly 
return to thyself, and do not continue out of 
tune longer than the compulsion lasts; for thou 
wilt have more mastery over the harmony by 
continually recurring to it. 

10. Some things are hurrying into exist¬ 
ence, and others are hurrying out of it; and of 
that which is coming into existence part is al¬ 
ready extinguished. Motions and changes are 
continually renewing the world, just as the 
uninterrupted course of time is always renewing 
the infinite duration of ages. In this flowing 
58 


stream then, on which there is no abiding, what 
is there of the things which hurry by on which a 
man would set a high price ? It would be just as 
if a man should fall in love with one of the spar¬ 
rows which fly by, but it has already passed out 
of sight* Something of this kind is the very life 
of every man, like the exhalation of the blood 
and the respiration of the air* For such as it is 
to have once drawn in the air and to have given 
it back, which we do every moment, just the 
same is it with the whole respiratory power, 
which thou didst receive at thy birth yesterday 
and the day before, to give it back to the element 
from which thou didst first draw it. 

C. 11* Neither is transpiration, as in plants, a 
thing to be valued, nor respiration, as in domes¬ 
ticated animals and wild beasts, nor the receiving 
of impressions by the appearances of things, nor 
being moved by desires as puppets by strings, 
nor assembling in herds, nor being nourished by 
food; for this is just like the act of separating 
and parting with the useless part of our food* 
What then is worth being valued? To be re¬ 
ceived with clapping of hands? No. Neither 
must we value the clapping of tongues; for the 
praise which comes from the many is a clapping 
of tongues* Suppose then that thou hast given 
tip this worthless thing called fame, what remains 
that is worth valuing ? This, in my opinion: to 
move thyself and to restrain thyself in conform¬ 
ity to thy proper constitution, to which end both 

59 


all employments and arts lead* For every art 
aims at this, that the thing which has been made 
should be adapted to the work for which it has 
been made; and both the vine-planter who looks 
after the vine, and the horse-breaker, and he 
who trains the dog, seek this end. But the 
education and the teaching of youth aim at 
something* In this then is the value of the edu¬ 
cation and the teaching. And if this is well, thou 
wilt not seek anything else. Wilt thou not cease 
to value many other things too ? Then thou wilt 
be neither free, nor sufficient for thy own happi¬ 
ness, nor without passion. For of necessity thoti 
must be envious, jealous, and suspicions of those 
who can take away those things, and plot against 
those who have that which is valued by thee. 
Of necessity a man must be altogether in a state 
of perturbation who wants any of these things; 
and besides, he must often find fault with the 
gods. But to reverence and honor thy own 
mind will make thee content with thyself, and in 
harmony with society, and in agreement with the 
gods, that is, praising all that they give and have 
ordered. 

C. 12. Above; below, all around are the move¬ 
ments of the elements. But the motion of virtue 
is in none of these: it is something more divine, 
and advancing by a way hardly observed, it goes 
happily on its road. 

C 13. How strangely men act! They will not 
praise those who are living at the same time and 

60 


living with themselves; but to be themselves 
praised by posterity, by those whom they have 
never seen or ever will see, this they set much 
value on. But this is very much the same as if 
thou shouldst be grieved because those who have 
lived before thee did not praise thee. 

14. If a thing is difficult to be accomplished 
by thyself, do not think that it is impossible for 
man: but if anything is possible for man and 
conformable to his nature, think that this can 
be attained by thyself too. 

15. In the gymnastic exercises suppose that 
a man has tom thee with his nails, and by dash¬ 
ing against thy head has inflicted a wound. 
Well, we neither show any signs of vexation, nor 
are we offended, nor do we suspect him after¬ 
wards as a treacherous fellow; and yet we are 
on our guard against him, not however as an 
enemy, nor yet with suspicion, but we quietly 
get out of his way. Something like this let thy 
behaviour be in all the other parts of life; let us 
overlook many things in those who are like 
antagonists in the gymnasium. For it is in our 
power, as I said, to get out of the way, and to 
have no suspicion nor hatred. 

CL 16* If any man is able to convince me and 
show me that I do not think or act right, I will 
gladly change; for I seek the truth, by which no 
man was ever injured. But he is injured who 
abides in his error and ignorance. 

fl 17.1 do my duty : other things trouble me 

61 


not; for they arc either things without life, or 
things without reason, or things that have 
rambled and know not the way* 

C, *8. As to the animals which have no reason, 
and generally all things and objects, do thou, 
since thou hast reason and they have none, make 
use of them with a generous and liberal spirit. 
But towards human beings, as they have reason, 
behave in a social spirit. And on all occasions 
call on the gods, and do not perplex thyself 
about the length of time in which thou shaft do 
this; for even three hours so spent are sufficient. 

C. 19. How cruel it is not to allow men to 
strive after the things which appear to them to 
be suitable to their nature and profitable! And 
yet in a manner thou dost not allow them to do 
this, when thou art vexed because they do wrong. 
For they are certainly moved towards things 
because they suppose them to be suitable to their 
nature and profitable to them. — But it is not 
so. — Teach them then, and show them without 
being angry. 

c 20. It is a shame for the soul to be first to 
give way in this life, when thy body does not 
give way. 

<[21. Take care that thou art not made into a 
Caesar, that thou art not dyed with this dye; 
for such things happen. Keep thyself then sim¬ 
ple, good, pure, serious, free from affectation, 
a friend of justice, a worshipper of the gods, kind, 
affectionate, strenuous in all proper acts. Strive 

62 


to continue to be such as philosophy wished to 
make thee* Reverence the gods, and help men* 
Short is life* There is only one fruit of this ter¬ 
rene life, — a pious disposition and social acts* 
Do everything as a disciple of Antoninus* Re¬ 
member his constancy in every act which was 
conformable to reason, and his evenness in all 
things, and his piety, and the serenity of his 
countenance, and his sweetness, and his disre¬ 
gard of empty fame, and his efforts to under¬ 
stand things; and how he would never let any¬ 
thing pass without having first most carefully 
examined it and clearly understood it; and how 
he bore with those who blamed him unjustly 
without blaming them in return; how he did 
nothing in a hurry; and how he listened not to 
calumnies, and how exact an examiner of man¬ 
ners and actions he was; and not given to re¬ 
proach people, nor timid, nor suspicious, nor a 
sophist; and with how little he was satisfied, 
such as lodging, bed, dress, food, servants; and 
how laborious and patient; and his firmness and 
uniformity in his friendships; and how he toler¬ 
ated freedom of speech in those who opposed his 
opinions; and the pleasure that he had when any 
man showed him anything better; and how re¬ 
ligious he was without superstition* Imitate 
all this, that thou mayest have as good a con¬ 
science, when thy last hour comes, as he had* 
22* Return to thy sober senses and call thy¬ 
self back; and when thou hast roused thyself 

63 


from sleep and hast perceived that they were 
only dreams which troubled thee, now in thy 
waking hours look at these [the things about 
thee] as thou didst look at those [the dreams]. 

d 23. He who has seen present things has 
seen all, both everything which has taken place 
from all eternity and everything which will be 
for time withotrt end; for all things are of one 
kin and of one form. 

d 24. Frequently consider the connection of 
all things in the universe and their relation to one 
another. For in a manner all things are impli¬ 
cated with one another, and all in this way are 
friendly to one another; for one thing comes in 
order after another, and this is by virtue of the 
active movement and mutual conspiration and 
the unity of the substance. 

d 25. Adapt thyself to the things with which 
thy lot has been cast: and the men among whom 
thou hast received thy portion, love them, but 
do it truly [sincerely]. 

d 26. When thou wishest to delight thyself, 
think of the virtues of those who live with thee; 
for instance, the activity of one, and the modesty 
of another, and the liberality of a third, and 
some other good quality of a fourth. For nothing 
delights so much as the examples of the virtues, 
when they are exhibited in the morals of those 
who live with us and present themselves in 
abundance, as far as is possible. Wherefore we 
must keep them before us. 

64 


<[27. Let us try to persuade them [men]. 
But act even against their will, when the prin¬ 
ciples of justice lead that way. If however any 
man by using force stands in thy way, betake 
thyself to contentment and tranquillity, and at 
the same time employ the hindrance towards 
the exercise of some other virtue; and remember 
that thy attempt was with a reservation [condi¬ 
tionally], that thou didst not desire to do im¬ 
possibilities. What then didst thou desire ? — 
Some such effort as this. — But thou attainest 
thy object, if the things to which thou wast 
moved are [not] accomplished. 

<[ 28. He who loves fame considers another 
man's activity to be his own good; and he who 
loves pleasure, his own sensations; but he who 
has understanding considers his own acts to be 
his own good. 

<[ 29. It is in our power to have no opinion 
about a thing, and not to be disturbed in our 
soul; for things themselves have no natural 
power to form our judgments. 

<[ 30. Accustom thyself to attend carefully to 
what is said by another, and as much as it is 
possible, be in the speaker's mind. 

<[31. That which is not good for the swarm, 
neither is it good for the bee. 

<[ 32. How many together with whom I came 
into the world are already gone out of it. 

<[ 33. To the jaundiced honey tastes bitter, 
and to those bitten by mad dogs water causes 

65 


fear; and to little children the ball is a fine 
thing. Why then am I angry ? Dost thoti think 
that a false opinion has less power than the bile 
in the jaundiced or the poison in him who is 
bitten by a mad dog? 

<£34. No man will hinder thee from living 
according to the reason of thy own nature: 
nothing will happen to thee contrary to the 
reason of the universal nature. 

<£ 35. What kind of people are those whom 
men wish to please, and for what objects, and by 
what kind of acts. How soon will time cover 
all things, and how many it has covered already. 


66 


VII 

discourse thou must attend 
to what is said, and in every 
movement thou must observe 
what is doing* And in the one 
thou shouldst see immediately 
to what end it refers, but in the 
other watch carefully what is 
the thing signified. 

<£2.How many after being celebrated by 
fame have been given up to oblivion; and how 
many who have celebrated the fame of others 
have long been dead. 

3. Be not ashamed to be helped; for it is 
thy business to do thy duty like a soldier in the 
assault on a town. How then, if being lame 
thou canst not mount up on the battlements 
alone, but with the help of another it is possible^ 

4. Let not future things disturb thee, for 
thou wilt come to them, if it shall be necessary, 
having with thee the same reason which now 
thou usest for present things. 

5. Let there fall externally what will on the 

67 





parts which can feel the effects of this fall* For 
those parts which have felt will complain, if 
they choose* But I, unless I think that what has 
happened is an evil, am not injured* And it is 
in my power not to think so* 

C. 6* Whatever any one does or says, I must be 
good; just as if the gold, or the emerald, or the 
purple were always saying this, Whatever any 
one does or says, I must be emerald and keep 
my color* 

d 7* The ruling faculty does not disturb it¬ 
self; I mean, does not frighten itself or cause 
itself pain. But if any one else can frighten or 
pain it, let him do so* For the faculty itself will 
not by its own opinion turn itself into such ways* 
Let the body itself take care, if it can, that it 
suffer nothing, and let it speak, if it suffers. But 
the soul itself, that which is subject to fear, to 
pain, which has completely the power of forming 
an opinion about these things, will suffer nothing, 
for it will never deviate into such a judgment. 
The leading principle in itself wants nothing, 
unless it makes a want for itself; and therefore 
it is both free from perturbation and unim¬ 
peded, if it does not disturb and impede itself. 

d 8. One thing only troubles me, lest I should 
do something which the constitution of man 
does not allow, or in the way which it does not 
allow, or what it does not allow now* 
d 9* Near is thy forgetfulness of all things; 
and near the forgetfulness of thee by all. 

68 


d ^0. It is peculiar to man to love even those 
who do wrong* And this happens, if when they 
do wrong it occurs to thee that they are kinsmen* 
and that they do wrong through ignorance and 
unintentionally, and that soon both of you will 
die; and above all, that the wrong-doer has done 
thee no harm, for he has not made thy ruling 
faculty worse than it was before* 

([ 11. A scowling look is altogether unnatural; 
when it is often assumed, the result is that all 
comeliness dies away, and at last is so com¬ 
pletely extinguished that it cannot be again 
lighted up at all. Try to conclude from this very 
fact that it is contrary to reason* For if even 
the perception of doing wrong shall depart, what 
reason is there for living any longer ? 

c 12. Nature which governs the whole will 
soon change all things which thou seest, and 
out of their substance will make other things, 
and again other things from the substance 
of them, in order that the world may be ever 
new. 

13* When a man has done thee any wrong, 
immediately consider with what opinion about 
good or evil he has done wrong* For when thou 
hast seen this, thou wilt pity him, and wilt 
neither wonder nor be angry. For either thou 
thyself thinkest the same thing to be good that 
he does or another thing of the same kind* It 
is thy duty then to pardon him. But if thou 
dost not think such things to be good or evil, 

69 


thoi i wilt more readily be well disposed to him 
who is in error* 

d 14* Think not so much of what thou hast 
not as of what thou hast: but of the things 
which thou hast select the best, and then reflect 
how eagerly they would have been sought, if 
thou hadst them not* At the same time, how¬ 
ever, take care that thou dost not through being 
so pleased with them accustom thyself to over¬ 
value them, so as to be disturbed if ever thou 
shouldst not have them. 

d 15* Retire into thyself. The rational prin¬ 
ciple which rules has this nature, that it is con¬ 
tent with itself when it does what is just, and so 
secures tranquillity. 

CL 16. Wipe out the imagination. Stop the 
pulling of the strings. Confine thyself to the 
present. Understand well what happens either 
to thee or to another. Divide and distribute 
every object into the causal [formal] and the 
material. Think of thy last hour. Let the wrong 
which is done by a man stay there where the 
wrong was done. 

d 17. Direct thy attention to what is said. 
Let thy understanding enter into the things 
that are doing and the things which do 
them. 

d 18. Adorn thyself with simplicity and 
modesty, and with indifference towards the 
things which lie between virtue and vice. Love 
mankind. Follow God. The poet says that law 
70 


rules all — And it is enough to remember that 
law rules all. 

19; About death: whether it is a dispersion; 
or a resolution into atoms, or annihilation, it is 
either extinction or change. 

20. About pain: the pain which is intol¬ 
erable carries us off; but that which lasts a long 
time is tolerable; and the mind maintains its 
own tranquillity by retiring into itself, and the 
ruling faculty is not made worse. But the parts 
which are harmed by pain, let them, if they can, 
give their opinion about it. 

21. About fame: look at the minds [of 
those who seek fame], observe what they are, and 
what kind of things they avoid, and what kind 
of things they pursue. And consider that as the 
heaps of sand piled on one another hide the 
former sands, so in life the events which go be¬ 
fore are soon covered by those which come after. 

22. It is a base thing for the countenance 
to be obedient and to regulate and compose itself 
as the mind commands, and for the mind not to 
be regulated and composed by itself. 

C 23. Look round at the courses of the stars, 
as if thou wert going along with them; and con¬ 
stantly consider the changes of the elements into 
one another, for such thoughts purge away the 
filth of the terrene life. 

24. Where any work can be done conform¬ 
ably to the reason which is common to gods and 
men, there we have nothing to fear; for where 

71 



we are able to get profit by means of the activity 
which is successful and proceeds according to our 
constitution, there no harm is to be suspected. 

c; 25. Everywhere and at all times it is in thy 
power piously to acquiesce in thy present condi¬ 
tion, and to behave justly to those who are about 
thee, and to exert thy skill upon thy present 
thoughts, that nothing shall steal into them 
without being well examined. 

26. Do not look around thee to discover 
other men's ruling principles, but look straight 
to this, to what nature leads thee, both the uni¬ 
versal nature through the things which happen 
to thee, and thy own nature through the acts 
which must be done by thee. But every being 
ought to do that which is according to its con¬ 
stitution; and all other things have been con¬ 
stituted for the sake of rational beings, just as 
among irrational things the inferior for the sake 
of the superior, but the rational for the sake of 
one another. 

The prime principle then in man's constitution 
is the social. And the second is not to yield to 
the persuasions of the body, — for it is the pe¬ 
culiar office of the rational and intelligent motion 
to circumscribe itself, and never to be over¬ 
powered either by the motion of the senses or of 
the appetites, for both are animal; but the intel¬ 
ligent motion claims superiority, and does not 
permit itself to be overpowered by the others. 
And with good reason, for it is formed by nature 
72 


to use all of them* The third thing m the ra¬ 
tional constitution is freedom from error and 
from deception* Let then the ruling principle 
holding fast to these things go straight on, and 
it has what is its own* 

C. 27* Consider thyself to be dead, and to have 
completed thy life tip to the present time; and 
live according to nature the remainder which is 
allowed thee* 

28* Love that only which happens to thee 
and is spun with the thread of thy destiny* For 
what is more suitable ? 

29* In everything which happens keep be¬ 
fore thy eyes those to whom the same things 
happened, and how they were vexed, and treated 
them as strange things, and found fault with 
them: and now where are they? Nowhere* 
Why then dost thou too choose to act in the 
same way; and why dost thou not leave these 
agitations which are foreign to nature to those 
who cause them and those who are moved by 
them; and why art thou not altogether intent 
upon the right way of making use of the things 
which happen to thee ? For then thou wilt tise 
them well, and they will be a material for thee 
[to work on]. Only attend to thyself, and re¬ 
solve to be a good man in every act which thoti 
doest* 

30* Look within* Within is the fountain of 
good, and it will ever bubble tip, if thoti wilt 
ever dig. 


73 


31. The body ought to be compact, and to 
show no irregularity either in motion or attitude. 
For what the mind shows in the face by main¬ 
taining in it the expression of intelligence and 
propriety, that ought to be required also in the 
whole body. But all these things should be 
observed without affectation. 

C[ 32. The art of life is more like the wrestler's 
art than the dancer's, in respect of this, that it 
should stand ready and firm to meet onsets 
which are sudden and unexpected. 

33. Constantly observe who those are whose 
approbation thou wishest to have, and what 
ruling principles they possess. For then thou 
wilt neither blame those who offend involun¬ 
tarily, nor wilt thou want their approbation, if 
thou lookest to the sources of their opinions and 
appetites. 

34. Every soul, the philosopher says, is 
involuntarily deprived of truth; consequently 
in the same way it is deprived of justice and 
temperance and benevolence and everything of 
the kind. It is most necessary to bear this con¬ 
stantly in mind, for thus thou wilt be more gentle 
towards all. 

35. In every pain let this thought be pres¬ 
ent, that there is no dishonor in it, nor does it 
make the governing intelligence worse, for it 
does not damage the intelligence either so far as 
the intelligence is rational or so far as it is social. 
Indeed in the case of most pains let this remark 

74 


of Epicurus aid thee, that pain is neither intoler¬ 
able nor everlasting, if thou bearest in mind 
that it has its limits, and if thou addest nothing 
to it in imagination: and remember this too, that 
we do not perceive that many things which are 
disagreeable to us are the same as pain, such as 
excessive drowsiness, and the being scorched 
by heat, and the having no appetite* When thou 
art discontented about any of these things, say 
to thyself that thou art yielding to pain. 

C. 36. Take care not to feel towards the in¬ 
human as they feel towards men. 

C. 37. Nature has not so mingled [the intelli¬ 
gence] with the composition of the body, as not 
to have allowed thee the power of circumscribing 
thyself and of bringing under subjection to thy¬ 
self all that is thy own; for it is very possible to 
be a divine man and to be recognized as such by 
no one. Always bear this in mind; and another 
thing too, that very little indeed is necessary for 
living a happy life. And because thou hast de¬ 
spaired of becoming a dialectician and skilled in 
the knowledge of nature, do not for this reason 
renounce the hope of being both free and modest, 
and social and obedient to God. 

H 38. It is in thy power to live free from all 
compulsion in the greatest tranquillity of mind, 
even if all the world cry out against thee as 
much as they choose, and even if wild beasts tear 
in pieces the members of this kneaded matter 
which has grown around thee. For what hinders 

75 


the mind in the midst of all this from maintain¬ 
ing itself in tranquillity and in a just judgment 
of all surrounding things and in a ready use of 
the objects which are presented to it, so that 
the judgment may say to the thing which falls 
under its observation: This thou art in substance 
[reality], though in men's opinion thou mayest 
appear to be of a different kind; and the use shall 
say to that which falls under the hand: Thou art 
the thing that I was seeking; for to me that which 
presents itself is always a material for virtue 
both rational and political, and in a word, for 
the exercise of art, which belongs to man or God* 
For everything which happens has a relationship 
either to God or man, and is neither new nor 
difficult to handle, but usual and apt matter to 
work on. 

39. The perfection of moral character con¬ 
sists in this, in passing every day as the last, and 
in being neither violently excited nor torpid nor 
playing the hypocrite. 

<[ 40. The gods who are immortal are not 
vexed because during so long a time they must 
tolerate continually men such as they are and 
so many of them bad; and besides this, they also 
take care of them in all ways. But thou, who 
art destined to end so soon, art thou wearied of 
enduring the bad, and this too when thou art one 
of them ? 

<1 41. It is a ridiculous thing for a man not to 
fly from his own badness, which is indeed pos- 
76 


sible, but to fly from other men's badness, which 
is impossible* 

C. 42* Whatever the rational and political 
[social] faculty finds to be neither intelligent nor 
social, it properly judges to be inferior to itself* 
43* When thou hast done a good act and 
another has received it, why dost thou still look 
for a third thing besides these, as fools do, either 
to have the reputation of having done a good 
act or to obtain a return ? 

44* No man is tired of receiving what is 
useful* But it is useful to act according to 
nature* Do not then be tired of receiving what 
is useful by doing it to others* 


77 


VIII 



|HIS reflection also tends to the 
removal of the desire of empty 
fame, that it is no longer in the 
power to have lived the whole 
of thy life, or at least thy life 
from thy youth upwards, like a 
philosopher; but both to many 
others and to thyself it is plain that thou art far 
from philosophy* Thou hast fallen into disorder 
then, so that it is no longer easy for thee to get 
the reputation of a philosopher; and thy plan 
of life also opposes it* If then thou hast truly 
seen where the matter lies, throw away the 
thought. How thou shalt seem [to others], and be 
content if thou shalt live the rest of thy life in 
such wise as thy nature wills* Observe then what 
it wills, and let nothing else distract thee; for 
thou hast had experience of many wanderings 
without having found happiness anywhere,— 
not in syllogisms, nor in wealth, nor in reputa¬ 
tion, nor in enjoyment, nor anywhere* Where 
is it then ? In doing what man's nature requires* 
78 





How then shall a man do this ? If he has prin¬ 
ciples from which come his affects and his acts. 
What principles? Those which relate to good 
and bad: the belief that there is nothing good for 
man which does not make him just, temperate, 
manly, free; and that there is nothing bad which 
does not do the contrary to what has been 
mentioned. 

C. 2. On the occasion of every act ask thyself. 
How is this with respect to me ? Shall I repent of 
it ? A little time and I am dead, and all is gone. 
What more do I seek, if what I am now doing 
is the work of an intelligent living being, and a 
social being, and one who is under the same law 
with God? 

3. Thou hast not leisure [or ability] to read. 
But thou hast leisure [or ability] to check arro¬ 
gance: thou hast leisure to be superior to pleas¬ 
ure and pain: thou hast leisure to be superior to 
love of fame, and not to be vexed at stupid and 
ungrateful people, nay even to care for them. 

4. Repentance is a kind of self-reproof for 
having neglected something useful; but that 
which is good must be something useful, and the 
perfect good man should look after it. But no 
such man would ever repent of having refused 
any sensual pleasure. Pleasure then is neither 
good nor useful. 

5. When thou risest from sleep with reluc¬ 
tance, remember that it is according to thy con¬ 
stitution and according to human nature to per- 

79 


form social acts, but sleeping is common also to 
irrational animals. But that which is according 
to each individual's nature is also more peculiarly 
its own, and more suitable to its nature, and 
indeed also more agreeable. 

C. 6* Remember that as it is a shame to be 
surprised if the fig-tree produces figs, so it is to 
be surprised if the world produces such and such 
things of which it is productive; and for the 
physician and the helmsman it is a shame to be 
surprised if a man has a fever, or if the wind is 
unfavorable. 

C 7. Remember that to change thy opinion 
and to follow him who corrects thy error is as 
consistent with freedom as it is to persist in thy 
error. For it is thy own, the activity which is 
exerted according to thy own movement and 
judgment, and indeed according to thy own 
understanding too. 

<L 8. Everything exists for some end, — a 
horse, a vine. Why dost thou wonder? Even 
the sun will say, I am for some purpose, and the 
rest of the gods will say the same. For what pur¬ 
pose then art thou, — to enjoy pleasure ? See 
if common sense allows this. 

C, 9. Short lived are both the praiser and the 
praised, and the rememberer and the remem¬ 
bered: and all this in a nook of this part of the 
world; and not even here do all agree, no, not 
any one with himself: and the whole earth too is 
a point. 

80 


C. JO* Attend to the matter which is before 
thee, whether it is an opinion or an act or a word. 

Thou sufferest this justly: for thou choosest 
rather to become good to-morrow than to be good 
to-day. 

C. 11. Am I doing anything? I do it with 
reference to the good of mankind. Does any¬ 
thing happen to me ? I receive it and refer it to 
the gods, and the source of all things, from 
which all that happens is derived. 

1 2. It is a satisfaction to a man to do the 
proper works of a man. Now it is a proper work 
of a man to be benevolent to his own kind, to de¬ 
spise the movements of the senses, to form a just 
judgment of plausible appearances, and to take a 
survey of the nature of the universe and of the 
things which happen in it. 

C. 13. There are three relations [between thee 
and other things]: the one to the body which 
surrounds thee; the second to the divine cause 
from which all things come to all; and the third 
to those who live with thee. 

14. Pain is either an evil to the body — 
then let the body say what it thinks of it — or to 
the soul; but it is in the power of the soul to 
maintain its own serenity and tranquillity, and 
not to think that pain is an evil. For every 
judgment and movement and desire and aver¬ 
sion is within, and no evil, ascends so high. 

f[ 15. Wipe out thy imaginations by often 
saying to thyself: Now it is in my power to let no 

81 


badness be in this soul, nor desire, nor any per¬ 
turbation at all; but looking at all things I see 
what is their nature, and I use each according 
to its value* — Remember this power which thou 
hast from nature* 

d 16* Receive [wealth or prosperity] without 
arrogance; and be ready to let it go* 
d 17. Do not disturb thyself by thinking of 
the whole of thy life* Let not thy thoughts at 
once embrace all the various troubles which 
thou mayest expect to befall thee: but on every 
occasion ask thyself. What is there in this which 
is intolerable and past bearing ? for thou wilt be 
ashamed to confess* In the next place remem¬ 
ber that neither the future nor the past pains 
thee, but only the present. But this is reduced 
to a very little, if thou only circumscribest it, 
and chidest thy mind if it is unable to hold out 
against even this. 

d 18. In the constitution of the rational ani¬ 
mal I see no virtue which is opposed to justice; 
but I see a virtue which is opposed to love of 
pleasure, and that is temperance* 

CL 19* If thou takest away thy opinion about 
that which appears to give thee pain, thou thy¬ 
self standest in perfect security. — Who is this 
self ? — The reason* — But I am not reason* — 
Be it so. Let then the reason itself not trouble 
itself. But if any other part of thee suffers, let it 
have its own opinion about itself* 

d 20* It is not fit that I should give myself 
82 


pain, for I have never intentionally given pain 
even to another. 

21. Different things delight different peo¬ 
ple; but it is my delight to keep the ruling fac¬ 
ulty sound without turning away either from 
any man or from any of the things which happen 
to men, but looking at and receiving all with 
welcome eyes and using everything according 
to its value. 

22. See that thou secure this present time 
to thyself: for those who rather pursue posthu¬ 
mous fame do not consider that the men of after 
time will be exactly such as these whom they 
cannot bear now; and both are mortal. And 
what is it in any way to thee if these men of 
after time utter this or that sound, or have this 
or that opinion about thee ? 

C[ 23. If thou art pained by any external 
thing, it is not this thing that disturbs thee, but 
thy own judgment about it. And it is in thy 
power to wipe out this judgment now. But if 
anything in thy own disposition gives thee pain, 
who hinders thee from correcting thy opinion ? 
And even if thou art pained because thou art 
not doing some particular thing which seems to 
thee to be right, why dost thou not rather act 
than complain? — But some insuperable ob¬ 
stacle is in the way ? — Do not be grieved then, 
for the cause of its not being done depends not 
on thee. — But it is not worth while to live, if 
this cannot be done. — Take thy departure then 

83 


from life contentedly, just as he dies who is in 
full activity, and well pleased too with the 
things which are obstacles. 

C. 24. Remember that the ruling faculty is 
invincible, when self-collected it is satisfied 
with itself, if it does nothing which it does not 
choose to do, even if it resist from mere ob¬ 
stinacy. What then will it be when it forms a 
judgment about anything aided by reason and 
deliberately ? Therefore the mind which is free 
from passions is a citadel, for man has nothing 
more secure to which he can fly for refuge and 
for the future be inexpugnable. He then who 
has not seen this is an ignorant man; but he 
who has seen it and does not fly to this refuge 
is unhappy. 

C 25. Say nothing more to thyself than what 
the first appearances report. Suppose that it 
has been reported to thee that a certain person 
speaks ill of thee. This has been reported; but 
that thou hast been injured, that has not been 
reported. I see that my child is sick. I do see; 
but that he is in danger, I do not see. Thus then 
always abide by the first appearances, and add 
nothing thyself from within, and then nothing 
happens to thee. Or rather add something like a 
man who knows everything that happens in the 
world. 

<1 26. Neither in thy actions be sluggish nor 
in thy conversation without method, nor wander¬ 
ing in thy thoughts, nor let there be in thy soul 
84 


inward contention nor external effusion, nor in 
life be so busy as to have no leisure. 

Suppose that men kill thee, cut thee in pieces, 
curse thee. What then can these things do to 
prevent thy mind from remaining pure, wise, 
sober, just ? For instance, if a man should stand 
by a limpid pure spring, and curse it, the spring 
never ceases sending up potable water; and if 
he should cast clay into it or filth, it will speedily 
disperse them and wash them out, and will not be 
at all polluted. How then shalt thou possess a 
perpetual fountain [and not a mere well] ? By 
forming thyself hourly to freedom conjoined 
with contentment, simplicity, and modesty. 

H 27. Dost thou wish to be praised by a man 
who curses himself thrice every hour? wouldst 
thou wish to please a man who does not please 
himself ? Does a man please himself who repents 
of nearly everything that he does ? 

28. Generally, wickedness does no harm 
at all to the universe; and particularly the 
wickedness [of one man] does no harm to an¬ 
other. It is only harmful to him who has it 
in his power to be released from it as soon as 
he shall choose. 

([ 29. To my own free will the free will of 
my neighbor is just as indifferent as his poor 
breath and flesh. For though we are made 
especially for the sake of one another, still the 
ruling power of each of us has its own office, 
for otherwise my neighbor's wickedness would 

85 


be my harm, which God has not willed in order 
that my unhappiness may not depend on an¬ 
other* 

C 30* He who fears death either fears the 
loss of sensation or a different kind of sensation. 
But if thou shalt have no sensation, neither wilt 
thou feel any harm; and if thou shalt acquire 
another kind of sensation, thou wilt be a differ¬ 
ent kind of living being and thou wilt not cease 
to live. 

31. Men exist for the sake of one another. 
Teach them then or bear with them. 

32. In one way an arrow moves, in an¬ 
other way the mind. The mind indeed, both 
when it exercises caution and when it is em¬ 
ployed about inquiry, moves straight onward 
not the less, and to its object. 

c 33. Enter into every man's ruling faculty; 
and also let every other man enter into thine* 


86 


IX 

E who acts unjustly acts impi¬ 
ously. For since the univer¬ 
sal nature has made rational ani¬ 
mals for the sake of one an¬ 
other to help one another ac¬ 
cording to their deserts, but in 
no way to injure one another, 
he who transgresses her will is clearly guilty 
of impiety towards the highest divinity. And 
he too who lies is guilty of impiety to the 
same divinity; for the universal nature is the 
nature of things that are; and things that are 
have a relation to all things that come into ex¬ 
istence. And further, this universal nature is 
named truth, and is the prime cause of all things 
that are true. He then who lies intentionally is 
guilty of impiety inasmuch as he acts unjustly 
by deceiving; and he also who lies unintention¬ 
ally, inasmuch as he is at variance with the uni¬ 
versal nature, and inasmuch as he disturbs the 
order by fighting against the nature of the 
world; for he fights against it, who is moved of 

87 







himself to that which is contrary to truth, for he 
had received powers from nature through the 
neglect of which he is not able now to distinguish 
falsehood from truth* And indeed he who pur¬ 
sues pleasure as good, and avoids pain as evil, is 
guilty of impiety. For of necessity such a man 
must often find fault with the universal nature, 
alleging that it assigns things to the bad and the 
good contrary to their deserts, because fre¬ 
quently the bad are in the enjoyment of pleasure 
and possess the things which procure pleasure, 
but the good have pain for their share and the 
things which cause pain. And further, he who 
is afraid of pain will sometimes also be afraid of 
some of the things which will happen in the 
world, and even this is impiety. And he who 
pursues pleasure will not abstain from injustice, 
and this is plainly impiety. Now with respect 
to the things towards which the universal nature 
is equally affected, — for it would not have 
made both, unless it was equally affected towards 
both, — towards these they who wish to follow 
nature should be of the same mind with it, and 
equally affected. With respect to pain, then, 
and pleasure, or death and life, or honor and 
dishonor, which the universal nature employs 
equally, whoever is not equally affected is mani¬ 
festly acting impiously. And I say that the 
universal nature employs them equally, instead 
of saying that they happen alike to those who are 
produced in continuous series and to those who 
88 


come after them by virtue of a certain original 
movement of Providence, according to which 
it moved from a certain beginning to this order¬ 
ing of things, having conceived certain prin¬ 
ciples of the things which were to be, and having 
determined powers productive of beings and of 
changes and of such like successions* 

C. 2* He who does wrong does wrong against 
himself* He who acts unjustly acts unjustly 
to himself, because he makes himself bad* 

C 3* He often acts unjustly who does not do a 
certain thing; not only he who does a certain 
thing* 

€[ 4. Thy present opinion founded on under¬ 
standing, and thy present conduct directed to 
social good, and thy present disposition of con¬ 
tentment with everything which happens — 
that is enough* 

5* Wipe out imagination: check desire: 
extinguish appetite: keep the ruling faculty in 
its own power* 

<[ 6. All things which participate in anything 
which is common to them all move towards that 
which is of the same kind with themselves* 
Everything which is earthy turns towards the 
earth, everything which is liquid flows together, 
and everything which is of an aerial kind does 
the same, so that they require something to keep 
them asunder, and the application of force. 
Fire indeed moves upwards on account of the 
elemental fire, but it is so ready to be kindled to- 

89 


gether with all the fire which is here, that even 
every substance which is somewhat dry is easily 
ignited, because there is less mingled with it 
of that which is a hindrance to ignition. Accord¬ 
ingly, then, everything also which participates 
in the common intelligent nature moves in like 
manner towards that which is of the same kind 
with itself, or moves even more. For so much 
as it is superior in comparison with all other 
things, in the same degree also is it more ready 
to mingle with and to be fused with that which is 
akin to it. Accordingly among animals devoid 
of reason we find swarms of bees, and herds of 
cattle, and the nurture of young birds, and in a 
manner, loves; for even in animals there are 
souls, and that power which brings them to¬ 
gether is seen to exert itself in the superior de¬ 
gree, and in such a way as never has been ob¬ 
served in plants nor in stones nor in trees. But 
in rational animals there are political communi¬ 
ties and friendships, and families and meetings of 
people; and in wars, treaties, and armistices. 
But in the things which are still superior, even 
though they are separated from one another, 
unity in a manner exists, as in the stars. Thus 
the ascent to the higher degree is able to produce 
a sympathy even in things which are separated. 
See, then, what now takes place; for only in¬ 
telligent animals have now forgotten this mutual 
desire and inclination, and in them alone the 
property of flowing together is not seen. But 
90 


still, though men strive to avoid [this union], 
they are caught and held by it, for their nature 
is too strong for them; and thou wilt see what I 
say, if thou only observest. Sooner, then, will 
one find anything earthy which comes in contact 
with no earthy thing, than a man altogether 
separated from other men. 

7. Both man and God and the universe pro¬ 
duce fruit; at the proper seasons each produces 
it. But and if usage has especially fixed these 
terms to the vine and like things, this is nothing. 
Reason produces fruit both for all and for itself, 
and there are produced from it other things of 
the same kind as reason itself. 

8. If thou art able, correct by teaching 
those who do wrong; but if thou canst not, re¬ 
member that indulgence is given to thee for this 
purpose. And the gods, too, are indulgent to 
such persons; and for some purposes they even 
help them to get health, wealth, reputation; so 
kind they are. And it is in thy power also; or 
say, who hinders thee ? 

4[ 9. Labor not as one who is wretched, nor 
yet as one who would be pitied or admired: but 
direct thy will to one thing only, — to put thy¬ 
self in motion and to check thyself, as the social 
reason requires. 

C[ 10. To-day I have got out of all trouble, or 
rather I have cast out all trouble, for it was not 
outside, but within and in my opinions. 

11. All things are the same, familiar in ex- 

91 


perience, and ephemeral in time, and worthless 
in the matter* Everything now is just as it was 
in the time of those whom we have buried. 

<[12. Things stand outside of us, themselves 
by themselves, neither knowing aught of them¬ 
selves, nor expressing any judgment. What is 
it, then, which does judge about them? The 
ruling faculty. 

<[13. Not in passivity but in activity lie the 
evil and the good of the rational social animal, 
just as his virtue and his vice lie not in passivity 
but in activity. 

<[ 14. For the stone which has been thrown 
up it is no evil to come down, nor indeed any 
good to have been carried up. 

<[ 15. Penetrate inwards into men's leading 
principles, and thou wilt see what judges thou 
art afraid of, and what kind of judges they are 
of themselves. 

<[ 16. All things are changing: and thou thy¬ 
self art in continuous mutation and in a manner 
in continuous destruction, and the whole uni¬ 
verse too. 

<[ 17. It is thy duty to leave another man's 
wrongful act there where it is. 

<[ 18. Hasten [to examine] thy own ruling 
faculty and that of the universe and that of thy 
neighbor: thy own that thou mayst make it 
just: and that of the universe, that thou mayst 
remember of what thou art a part; and that of 
thy neighbor, that thou mayst know whether he 
92 


has acted ignorantly or with knowledge, and 
that thou mayst also consider that his ruling 
faculty is akin to thine. 

C19. As thou thyself art a component part of 
a social system, so let every act of thine be a 
component part of social life. Whatever act of 
thine then has no reference either immediately 
or remotely to a social end, this tears asunder 
thy life, and does not allow it to be one, and it is 
of the nature of a mutiny, just as when in a popu¬ 
lar assembly a man acting by himself stands 
apart from the general agreement. 

<[ 20. Examine into the quality of the form 
of an object, and detach it altogether from its 
material part, and then contemplate it; then 
determine the time, the longest which a thing of 
this peculiar form is naturally made to endure. 

C 21. Thou hast endured infinite troubles 
through not being contented with thy ruling 
faculty when it does the things which it is con¬ 
stituted by nature to do. But enough [of this]. 

22. When another blames thee or hates 
thee, or when men say about thee anything in¬ 
jurious, approach their poor souls, penetrate 
within, and see what kind of men they are. 
Thou wilt discover that there is no reason to 
take any trouble that these men may have this 
or that opinion about thee. However, thou 
must be well disposed towards them, for by 
nature they are friends. And the gods too aid 
them in all ways, by dreams, by signs, towards 

93 


the attainment of those things on which they set 
a value. 

C. 23. Soon will the earth cover us all: then 
the earth, too, will change, and the things also 
which result from change will continue to change 
forever, and these again forever. For if a man 
reflects on the changes and transformations 
which follow one another like wave after wave 
and their rapidity, he will despise everything 
which is perishable. 

C. 24. Look down from above on the countless 
herds of men and their countless solemnities, 
and the infinitely varied voyagings in storms 
and calms, and the differences among those 
who are born, who live together, and die. And 
consider, too, the life lived by others in olden 
time, and the life of those who will live after 
thee, and the life now lived among barbarous 
nations, and how many know not even thy 
name, and how many will soon forget it, and 
how they who perhaps now are praising thee 
will very soon blame thee, and that neither a 
posthumous name is of any value, nor reputa¬ 
tion, nor anything else. 

25. Let there be freedom from perturba¬ 
tions with respect to the things which come from 
the external cause; and let there be justice in the 
things done by virtue of the internal cause, that 
is, let there be movement and action terminating 
in this, in social acts, for this is according to thy 
nature. 

94 



€[ 26♦ Thou canst remove out of the way 
many useless things among those which disturb 
thee, for they lie entirely in thy opinion; and 
thou wilt then gain for thyself ample space by 
comprehending the whole universe in thy mind, 
and by contemplating the eternity of time, and 
observing the rapid change of every several 
thing, how short is the time from birth to disso¬ 
lution, and the illimitable time before birth as well 
as the equally boundless time after dissolution! 

27. All that thou seest will quickly perish, 
and those who have been spectators of its disso¬ 
lution will very soon perish too. And he who 
dies at the extremest old age will be brought into 
the same condition with him who died prema¬ 
turely. 

C 28. What are these men's leading princi¬ 
ples, and about what kind of things are they 
busy, and for what kind of reasons do they love 
and honor ? Imagine that thou seest their poor 
souls laid bare. When they think that they do 
harm by their blame or good by their praise, 
what an idea! 

C 29. If any man has done wrong, the harm 
is his own. But perhaps he has not done wrong. 

H 30. Either all things proceed from one in¬ 
telligent source and come together as in one 
body, and the part ought not to find fault with 
what is done for the benefit of the whole; or 
there are only atoms, and nothing else than 
mixture and dispersion. Why; then, art thou 

95 


disturbed ? Say to the ruling faculty. Art thou 
dead, art thou corrupted, art thou playing the 
hypocrite, art thou become the beast, dost thou 
herd and feed with the rest ? 

C. 3b When thou art offended with any man's 
shameless conduct, immediately ask thyself. Is 
it possible, then, that shameless men should not 
be in the world? It is not possible. Do not, 
then, require what is impossible. For this man 
also is one of those shameless men who must of 
necessity be in the world. Let the same con¬ 
siderations be present to thy mind in the case 
of the knave, and the faithless man, and of every 
man who does wrong in any way. For at the 
same time that thou dost remind thyself that it 
is impossible that such kind of men should not 
exist, thou wilt become more kindly disposed 
towards every one individually. It is useful to 
perceive this, too, immediately when the occa¬ 
sion arises, what virtue nature has given to man 
to oppose to every wrongful act. For she has 
given to man, as an antidote against the stupid 
man, mildness, and against another kind of man 
some other power. And in all cases it is possible 
for thee to correct by teaching the man who is 
gone astray; for every man who errs misses his 
obj ect and is gone astray. Besides, wherein hast 
thou been injured ? For thou wilt find that no 
one among those against whom thou art irritated 
has done anything by which thy mind could be 
made worse; but that which is evil to thee and 
96 


harmful has its foundation only in the mind. 
And what harm is done or what is there strange, 
if the man who has not been instructed does the 
acts of an uninstructed man ? Consider whether 
thou shouldst not rather blame thyself, because 
thou didst not expect such a man to err in such 
a way. For thou hadst means given thee by thy 
reason to suppose that it was likely that he 
would commit this error, and yet thou hast for¬ 
gotten and art amazed that he has erred. But 
most of all when thou blamest a man as faithless 
or ungrateful, turn to thyself. For the fault 
is manifestly thy own, whether thou didst trust 
that a man who had such a disposition would 
keep his promise, or when conferring thy kind¬ 
ness thou didst not confer it absolutely, nor yet 
in such way as to have received from thy very 
act all the profit. For what more dost thou 
want when thou hast done a man a service ? art 
thou not content that thou hast done something 
conformable to thy nature, and dost thou seek 
to be paid for it ? just as if the eye demanded a 
recompense for seeing, or the feet for walking. 
For as these members are formed for a particular 
purpose, and by working according to their 
several constitutions obtain what is their own; 
so also as man is formed by nature to acts of 
benevolence, when he has done anything benevo¬ 
lent or in any other way conducive to the com¬ 
mon interest, he has acted conformably to his 
constitution, and he gets what is his own. 


97 


X 

ILT thou, then, my soul, never 
be good and simple and one 
and naked, more manifest than 
the body which surrounds thee? 
Wilt thou never enjoy an affec¬ 
tionate and contented disposi¬ 
tion ? Wilt thou never be full 
and without a want of any kind, longing for 
nothing more, nor desiring anything, either 
animate or inanimate, for the enjoyment of 
pleasures? nor yet desiring time wherein thou 
shalt have longer enjoyment, or place, or 
pleasant climate, or society of men with whom 
thou mayst live in harmony ? but wilt thou be 
satisfied with thy present condition, and pleased 
with all that is about thee, and wilt thou con¬ 
vince thyself that thou hast everything, and 
that it comes from the gods, that everything is 
well for thee, and will be well whatever shall 
please them, and whatever they shall give for 
the conservation of the perfect living being, the 
good and just and beautiful, which generates 
98 






and holds together all things, and contains and 
embraces all things which are dissolved for the 
production of other like things? Wilt thou 
never be such that thou shalt so dwell in com¬ 
munity with gods and men as neither to find 
fault with them at all, nor to be condemned by 
them? 

C. 2. Observe what thy nature requires, so 
far as thou art governed by nature only: then do 
it and accept it, if thy nature, so far as thou art 
a living being, shall not be made worse by it. 
And next thou must observe what thy nature 
requires so far as thou art a living being. And 
all this thou mayst allow thyself, if thy nature, 
so far as thou art a rational animal, shall not be 
made worse by it. But the rational animal is 
consequently also a political [social] animal. 
Use these rules, then, and trouble thyself about 
nothing else. 

<[ 3. Everything which happens either hap¬ 
pens in such wise as thou art formed by nature 
to bear it, or as thou art not formed by nature 
to bear it. If, then, it happens to thee in such 
way as thou art formed by nature to bear it, 
do not complain, but bear it as thou art formed 
by nature to bear it. But if it happens in such 
wise as thou art not formed by nature to bear it, 
do not complain, for it will perish after it has 
consumed thee. Remember, however, that thou 
art formed by nature to bear everything, with 
respect to which it depends on thy own opinion 

99 


to make it endurable and tolerable, by thinking 
that it is either thy interest or thy duty to do 
this. 

C. 4. If a man is mistaken, instruct him kindly 
and show him his error. But if thou art not able, 
blame thyself, or blame not even thyself. 

5. When thou hast assumed these names; 
good, modest, true, rational, a man of equanim¬ 
ity, and magnanimous, take care that thou dost 
not change these names; and if thou shouldst 
lose them, quickly return to them. And re¬ 
member that the term Rational was intended to 
signify a discriminating attention to every sev¬ 
eral thing, and freedom from negligence; and 
that Equanimity is the voluntary acceptance of 
the things which are assigned to thee by the 
common nature; and that Magnanimity is the 
elevation of the intelligent part above the 
pleasurable or painful sensations of the flesh; 
and above that poor thing called fame, and 
death, and all such things. If, then, thou 
maintainest thyself in the possession of these 
names, without desiring to be called by these 
names by others, thou wilt be another person 
and wilt enter on another life. For to continue 
to be such as thou hast hitherto been, and to be 
torn in pieces and defiled in such a life, is the 
character of a very stupid man and one over- 
fond of his life, and like those half-devoured 
fighters with wild beasts, who though covered 
with wounds and gore, still intreat to be kept 

100 


to the following day, though they will be ex¬ 
posed in the same state to the same claws and 
bites. Therefore fix thyself in the possession of 
these few names: and if thou art able to abide 
in them, abide as if thou wast removed to certain 
islands of the Happy. 

H 6. A spider is proud when it has caught a 
fly, and another when he has caught a poor hare, 
and another when he has taken a little fish in a 
net, and another when he has taken wild boars, 
and another when he has taken bears, and an¬ 
other when he has taken Sarmatians. Are not 
these robbers, if thou examinest their opinions ? 

CL 7. Acquire the contemplative way of seeing 
how all things change into one another, and 
constantly attend to it, and exercise thyself 
about this part [of philosophy]. For nothing is 
so much adapted to produce magnanimity. 
Such a man has put off the body, and as he sees 
that he must, no one knows how soon, go away 
from among men and leave everything here, he 
gives himself up entirely to just doing in all his 
actions, and in everything else that happens he 
resigns himself to the universal nature. But as 
to what any man shall say or think about him 
or do against him, he never even thinks of it, 
being himself contented with these two things, — 
with acting justly in what he now does, and 
being satisfied with what is now assigned to him^ 
and he lays aside all distracting and busy pur¬ 
suits, and desires nothing else than to accom- 

*0* 


plish the straight course through the law, and by 
accomplishing the straight course to follow God. 

H 8. Inquire of thyself as soon as thou wakest 
from sleep whether it will make any difference 
to thee if another does what is just and right. It 
will make no difference. 

C; 9. To her who gives and takes back all, to 
nature, the man who is instructed and modest 
says. Give what thou wilt; take back what thou 
wilt. And he says this not proudly, but obedi¬ 
ently, and well pleased with her. 

S 10. Short is the little which remains to thee 
e. Live as on a mountain. For it makes no 
difference whether a man lives there or here, if 
he lives everywhere in the world as in a state 
[political community]. Let men see, let them 
know a real man who lives according to nature. 
If they cannot endure him, let them kill him. 
For that is better than to live thus [as men do]. 

«; 11. No longer talk at all about the kind of 
man that a good man ought to be, but be such. 

12. Constantly contemplate the whole of 
time and the whole of substance, and consider 
that all individual things as to substance are a 
grain of a fig, and as to time the turning of a 
gimlet. 

13. Look at everything that exists, and ob¬ 
serve that it is already in dissolution and in 
change, and as it were putrefaction or disper¬ 
sion, or that everything is so constituted by 
nature as to die. 

102 


C, 14. That is for the good of each thing, which 
the universal nature brings to each. And it is 
for its good at the time when nature brings it, 
d 15, Either thou livest here and hast already 
accustomed thyself to it, or thou art going away, 
and this was thy own will; or thou art dying and 
hast discharged thy duty. But besides these 
things there is nothing. Be of good cheer, 
then. 

CL 16. When thou art offended at any man's 
fault, forthwith turn to thyself and reflect in 
what like manner thou dost err thyself; for ex¬ 
ample, in thinking that money is a good thing, 
or pleasure, or a bit of reputation, and the like. 
For by attending to this thou wilt quickly forget 
thy anger, if this consideration also is added, 
that the man is compelled: for what else could 
he do ? or, if thou art able, take away from him 
the compulsion. 

CL 17. The healthy eye ought to see all visible 
things and not to say, I wish for green things; 
for this is the condition of a diseased eye. And 
the healthy hearing and smelling ought to be 
ready to perceive all that can be heard and 
smelled. And the healthy stomach ought to be 
with respect to all food just as the mill with re¬ 
spect to all things which it is formed to grind. 
And accordingly the healthy understanding 
ought to be prepared for everything which hap¬ 
pens; but that which says, Let my dear children 
live, and let all men praise whatever I may do, 

103 


is an eye which seeks for green things, or teeth 
which seek for soft things. 

18. There is no man so fortunate that there 
shall not be by him when he is dying some who 
are pleased with what is going to happen. Sup¬ 
pose that he was a good and wise man, will there 
not be at last some one to say to himself. Let ns 
at last breathe freely, being relieved from this 
schoolmaster? It is true that he was harsh to 
none of ns, but I perceived that he tacitly con¬ 
demns ns. — This is what is said of a good man. 
Bnt in onr own case how many other things are 
there for which there are many who wish to get 
rid of ns. Thon wilt consider this, then, when 
thon art dying, and thon wilt depart more con¬ 
tentedly by reflecting thns: I am going away 
from snch a life, in which even my associates in 
behalf of whom I have striven so mnch, prayed, 
and cared, themselves wish me to depart, hoping 
perchance to get some little advantage by it. 
Why then shonld a man cling to a longer stay 
here ? Do not for this reason go away less kindly 
disposed to them, bnt preserving thy own char¬ 
acter, and friendly and benevolent and mild, 
and on the other hand not as if thon wast torn 
away; bnt as when a man dies a qniet death, the 
poor sonl is easily separated from the body, snch 
also onght thy departnre from men to be, for 
natnre nnited thee to them and associated thee. 
Bnt does she now dissolve the nnion ? Well, I 
am separated as from kinsmen, not however 
104 


dragged resisting, but without compulsion; for 
this, too, is one of the things according to nature. 

<[19. Accustom thyself as much as possible 
on the occasion of anything being done by any 
person to inquire with thyself. For what object is 
this man doing this ? But begin with thyself, 
and examine thyself first. 


105 


XI 



|0W plain docs it appear that 
there is not another condition 
of life so well suited for philos¬ 
ophizing as this in which thou 
now happenest to be♦ 

«L2.A branch cut off from the 
adjacent branch must of neces¬ 
sity be cut off from the whole tree also* So too 
a man when he is separated from another man 
has fallen off from the whole social community. 
Now as to a branch, another cuts it off; but a 
man by his own act separates himself from his 
neighbor when he hates him and turns away 
from him, and he does not know that he has at 
the same time cut himself off from the whole 
social system. 

d 3. If the things do not come to thee, the 
pursuits and avoidances of which disturb thee, 
still in a manner thou goest to them. Let then 
thy judgment about them be at rest, and they 
will remain quiet, and thou wilt not be seen 
either pursuing or avoiding. 

106 




f[ 4. Suppose any man shall despise me* Let 
him look to that himself. But I will look to this, 
that I be not discovered doing or saying anything 
deserving of contempt. Shall any man hate me ? 
Let him look to it. But I will be mild and 
benevolent towards every man, and ready to 
show even him his mistake, not reproachfully, 
nor yet as making a display of my endurance, 
but nobly and honestly, like the great Phocion, 
unless indeed he only assumed it. For the in¬ 
terior [parts] ought to be such, and a man ought 
to be seen by the gods neither dissatisfied with 
anything nor complaining. For what evil is it 
to thee, if thou art now doing what is agreeable 
to thy own nature, and art satisfied with that 
which at this moment is suitable to the nature 
of the universe, since thou art a human being 
placed at thy post in order that what is for the 
common advantage may be done in some way ? 

5. As to living in the best way, this power 
is in the soul, if it be indifferent to things which 
are indifferent. And it will be indifferent, if it 
looks on each of these things separately and all 
together, and if it remembers that not one of 
them produces in us an opinion about itself, nor 
comes to us; but these things remain immovable, 
and it is we ourselves who produce the judgments 
about them, and, as we may say, write them in 
ourselves, it being in our power not to write 
them, and it being in our power, if perchance 
these judgments have imperceptibly got admis- 

107 


sion to otir minds, to wipe them out; and if we 
remember also that such attention will only be 
for a short time, and then life will be at an end. 
Besides, what trouble is there at all in doing this ? 
For if these things are according to nature, re¬ 
joice in them and they will be easy to thee: but 
if contrary to nature, seek what is conformable 
to thy own nature, and strive towards this, even 
if it bring no reputation; for every man is al¬ 
lowed to seek his own good. 

C 6. Consider whence each thing is come, and 
of what it consists, and into what it changes, and 
what kind of a thing it will be when it has 
changed, and that it will sustain no harm. 


108 


XII 

HAVE often wondered how it 
is that every man loves himself 
more than all the rest of men, 
but yet sets less value on his 
own opinion of himself than on 
the opinion of others* If then 
a god or a wise teacher should 
present himself to a man and bid him to think 
of nothing and to design nothing which he would 
not express as soon as he conceived it, he could 
not endure it even for a single day* So much 
more respect have we to what our neighbors 
shall think of us than to what we shall think of 
ourselves* 

C; 2* Practise thyself even in the things which 
thou despairest of accomplishing* For even 
the left hand, which is ineffectual for all other 
things for want of practice, holds the bridle 
more vigorously than the right hand; for it has 
been practised in this. 

C.3. How ridiculous and what a stranger he 

109 





is who is surprised at anything which happens in 
life* 

4* Either there is a fatal necessity and in¬ 
vincible order, or a kind providence, or a con¬ 
fusion without a purpose and without a director* 
If then there is an invincible necessity, why dost 
thou resist ? But if there is a providence which 
allows itself to be propitiated, make thyself 
worthy of the help of the divinity* But if there 
is a confusion without a governor, be content 
that in such a tempest thou hast in thyself a 
certain ruling intelligence* And even if the tem¬ 
pest carry thee away, let it carry away the poor 
flesh, the poor breath, everything else; for the 
intelligence at least it will not carry away. 

5* Consider that everything is opinion, and 
opinion is in thy power. Take away then, when 
thou choosest, thy opinion, and like a mariner 
who has doubled the promontory, thou wilt find 
calm, everything stable, and a waveless bay* 

6* These three principles thou must have in 
readiness: In the things which thou doest do 
nothing either inconsiderately or otherwise than 
as justice herself would act; but with respect 
to what may happen to thee from without, con¬ 
sider that it happens either by chance or accord¬ 
ing to providence, and thou must neither blame 
chance nor accuse providence. Second, consider 
what every being is from the seed to the time of 
its receiving a soul, and from the reception of a 
soul to the giving back of the same, and of what 

no 


things every being is compounded, and into 
what things it is resolved. Third, if thou 
shouldst suddenly be raised up above the earth, 
and shouldst look down on human things, and 
observe the variety of them how great it is, and 
at the same time also shouldst see at a glance how 
great is the number of beings who dwell all 
around in the air and the ether, consider that as 
often as thou shouldst be raised up, thou wouldst 
see the same things, sameness of form and short¬ 
ness of duration. Are these things to be proud 
of? 

C. 7. Cast away opinion: thou art saved. 
Who then hinders thee from casting it away ? 

C; 8. When thou art troubled about anything, 
thou hast forgotten this, that all things happen 
according to the universal nature; and for¬ 
gotten this, that a man's wrongful act is nothing 
to thee; and further thou hast forgotten this, 
that everything which happens, always hap¬ 
pened so and will happen so, and now happens 
so everywhere; forgotten this too, how close is 
the kinship between a man and the whole human 
race, for it is a community, not of a little blood or 
seed, but of intelligence. And thou hast for¬ 
gotten this too, that every man's intelligence 
is a god and is an efflux of the Deity; and for¬ 
gotten this, that nothing is a man's own, but that 
his child and his body and his very soul came 
from the Deity; forgotten this, that everything 
is opinion; and lastly thou hast forgotten that 

t u 


every man lives the present time only, and loses 
only this. 

f[ 9. Constantly bring to thy recollection those 
who have complained greatly about anything, 
those who have been most conspicuous by the 
greatest fame or misfortunes or enmities or for¬ 
tunes of any kind: then think where are they all 
now ? Smoke and ash and a tale, or not even a 
tale. 

C. 10. The safety of life is this, to examine 
everything all through, what it is itself, that is 
its material, what the formal part; with all thy 
soul to do justice and to say the truth. What 
remains, except to enjoy life by joining one 
good thing to another so as not to leave even the 
smallest intervals between ? 

<[11. What dost thou wish, — to continue to 
exist ? Well, dost thou wish to have sensation, 
movement, growth, and then again to cease to 
grow, to use thy speech, to think ? What is there 
of all these things which seems to thee worth 
desiring ? But if it is easy to set little value on all 
these things, turn to that which remains, which is 
to follow reason and God. But it is inconsistent 
with honoring reason and God to be troubled 
because by death a man will be deprived of the 
other things. 

c 12. How small a part of the boundless and 
unfathomable time is assigned to every man, 
for it is very soon swallowed up in the eternal! 
And how small a part of the whole substance; 

112 


and how small a part of the universal soul; an 
on what a small clod of the whole earth thou 
creepest! Reflecting on all this, consider nothing 
to be great, except to act as thy nature leads 
thee, and to endure that which the common 
nature brings. 

13. How does the ruling faculty make use of 
itself ? for all lies in this. But everything else, 
whether it is in the power of thy will or not, is 
only lifeless ashes and smoke. 

€[ 14. This reflection is most adapted to move 
us to contempt of death, that even those who 
think pleasure to be a good and pain an evil 
still have despised it. 

15. The man to whom that only is good 
which comes in due season, and to whom it is the 
same thing whether he has done more or fewer 
acts conformable to right reason, and to whom 
it makes no difference whether he contemplates 
the world for a longer or a shorter time, — for 
this man neither is death a terrible thing. How 
worthless everything is after which men vio¬ 
lently strain; and how much more philosophical 
it is for a man in the opportunities presented 
to him to show himself just, temperate, obedient 
to the gods, and to do this with all simplicity; 
for the pride which is proud of its want of pride 
is the most intolerable of all. 

C[ 16. Man, thou hast been a citizen in this 
great state [the world]; what difference does it 
make to thee whether for five years [or three] ? 

113 


for that which is conformable to the laws is just 
for all. Where is the hardship then, if no tyrant 
nor yet an unjust judge sends thee away from 
the state, but nature, who brought thee into it ? 
the same as if a praetor who has employed an 
actor dismisses him from the stage. — 44 But I 
have not finished the five acts, but only three of 
them.” — Thou sayest well, but in life the three 
acts are the whole drama; for what shall be a 
complete drama is determined by him who was 
once the cause of its composition, and now of its 
dissolution: but thou art the cause of neither. 
Depart then satisfied, for he also who releases 
thee is satisfied. 





















A* * 

f ' 

\ ^ * 
<, *-7vT* g* *b 
.0* ..“*. +o 



. ^ 'V ”, 

—,5K • 

y» ' • * ’ *0 V. 

■;. ^ ,o* ,»‘A*» "*© 

* V i v ♦Vy/Z^b < * 

: **. o< .'/tM^S. •»*_ .* 


I * • 





O v 


o 4 0 «?* > 

* v g-* * 

• 0 * 

* *° ^ * 


.* <y* %■ •. 

^ ' 

% « esS\WT\^ # T. , v 

. ■'W 



°-ru * • •« 

*. C 1 

- ^ ^ * 

• ^ c? 

; ^ v> 

4 A O 1/// '^\\\V % «• 

** *.w* ^ ^ •. 

, 'V'*“‘ A^ ... <U, *'-"•* aO' -- 

4 0 *» A/^ ft 0 A ♦ AV . L * • ^ 

N % <foA\\W * ry . v * 

; • _ 4 * 

^ ,, ,,.„, -♦ A cr 

*°-v & °* v 

0" ' •* ^ 

1 <*. * • ' -« 


^o* 

§>.“ a 


’’o 


n - 


.0 *»*«- *> 
*-l> v Si * . 


v' .. 




* '0^^ ^ ^ ^ ** * % 

V "“^R‘* W|R ; -^"V *. 

r<» • A <. ♦T^T* . 0 ^ 

*o A v .«*•. *. 0 * .t -. 4 **b V 

v> A *.<f$!«w'. ^ (j , x ~/r?>L-> o j* 

->•„ A S .V^ftV. 4 */M&.\ •»- <V 



>*. 

C; 


o V" 


> » 


*° V 



^ 0 ^ 





'o V 


> O" * *«^7* j*> °o n 0 ^ 

V ..*..% **’ v N .•v,. *o “' J .....' 

f 4 Va*'. **. A* •j^ttfe". V A* .'*W*'' 

°. v* v ^ v 



• -.*** o 


** ^ \, “ 



. * * /V 


* «* 
* ♦♦ *«• • 



* * • » »v w * • v' ’ 4 • • • 

,o* **©., a,^ c^v* a 


. «5°«* 

^ * *^-V c\_ 

^ \, v .*V/ 














